


The Other Half of My Heart

by crazyhomoinspace



Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4998070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyhomoinspace/pseuds/crazyhomoinspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're my soulmate.</p><p>That doesn't mean that I have to like you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I’ve heard the stories a million times. So many times, in fact, I feel like it could be a fairytale. And if it weren’t for the tiny, cursive ‘I’ on my wrist, I’d think it was just that-- a cute, romantic story for parents to regale their children with.  
  


The story goes like this. Long, long ago, when mankind was new, the benevolent Soul King bestowed upon them the gift of love. And with that gift came the concept of soulmates-- the other half of your heart. But humanity cried, ‘How will we ever find them? With so many people being born in the world, how could we possibly find our soulmate?’ So the Soul King offered a simple solution. On the morning of every person’s sixteenth birthday, a mark appeared on their wrist. That mark was the first letter of their soulmate’s last name. He couldn’t make it too easy, now could he? That totally eliminated the thrill of the hunt.  
  


But what happens when someone finds their soulmate, you ask? It’s easy. Their mark disappears. All it takes is physical contact. A handshake. A tap on the back. A kiss. Anything.  
  


My name’s Ichigo Kurosaki. I’m twenty-six years old, I’m a Cancer.  
  


And my mark is intact.  
  


I’m actually surprised that I haven’t lost it without noticing, to be honest. I touch a lot of people. Well, not like that, of course. I’m a nurse. I work with my father, who’s the only doctor in our small family clinic. We do everything, from annual exams to simple surgeries. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. My father’s the biggest pain in the ass imaginable, but hey, we’re family. Besides, you can’t beat the commute when your workplace is just downstairs.  
  


It was a plus that my girlfriend works there, too.  
  


But wait, you say. Didn’t I just say that my mark is intact? That’s right. It is. Doesn’t mean I have to waste my life away waiting for him or her. Besides, not everyone finds their soulmate. Most do. Some find their soulmate, but marry someone else for purely selfish reasons-- money, sex, power. The big ones. Some don’t even bother to look. It’s just not important to them, I guess.  
  


Me? I just don’t want to be alone. It’s as simple as that. When one of our marks disappears, we’ll re-evaluate. But until then, we’re pretty happy, I think.  
  


“Good morning!” she chirps to me, handing me a cup of coffee.  
  


“‘Morning.” I take the coffee like it’s my lifeline. “Do we have a full schedule today, Ms. Inoue?”  
  


She nods. “Lots of sick patients today. Oh! And your father has a meeting at three. Is it okay if I have an ostomy patient come in?”  
  


“My favorite thing,” I grimace. “Yeah, that’s fine.”  
  


Just another day in paradise.

 

* * *

 

You know, I really meant what I said earlier. This place is paradise. I love the patients. I love helping them. I love swabbing throats, taking temperatures, taking blood pressure and pulses. I love working with the elderly, the adults, the kids, the babies.  
  


Well. Except when it’s time to give shots.  
  


One of the most painful things I do is make children cry. Not on purpose, mind you. They just see the needle and go ape shit.  
  


“Aww, c’mon, Ryo. You’re gonna make Nurse Ichigo cry.” I was seated across from a rather intuitive toddler who had started to cry the second I walked into the room. I hadn’t even pulled out the needle yet! I gave the kid the biggest fake pout I could, lip trembling and all. That seemed to break the tears, and triggered a little smile. Dramatically, I threw my arm over my eyes and pretended to weep.  
  


“It’s too late! I’m gonna cry,” I warn. Discretely, I turn and take the cap off of the needle. The child had started to laugh and clap his hands. That’s my cue to strike. I injected quickly and efficiently, and the kid never even knew that I’d done it until it started to sting. But no worries. I know how to dry those tears, too.  
  


“Hey, now. Who’s got stickers?” I ask in sing-song. “Nurse Ichigo has stickers!” I pull a handful of big, colorful, child-pleasing yet calorie-free stickers out of my scrubs. He picked out an Olaf sticker, and I officially handed over jurisdiction to his mother.  
  


I let out a breath and rub my face. Don’t get me wrong. My job’s great, but it’s exhausting.  
  


“Um, nurse? Would you be so kind as to find Dr. Kurosaki for me?”  
  


I turn so hard that I could have easily given myself whiplash. “Excuse me?” I ask, the murder in my voice thinly veiled.  
  


The man before me was young, but there was enough pretentiousness in those ice cold blue eyes for a lifetime. He stood erect, dressed in a white button-down-- tucked in, I might add, with black slacks and polished black shoes. If he had a black nametag, he would have passed as a Mormon missionary. He brought a thin finger to his nose to push his glasses up.  
  


“My name is Uryuu Ishida. I’m a third-year medical student. I’ve been assigned to this clinic for my clinical rotation.”  
  


His voice is nasally and plucks each of my nerves in turn. I had to grit my teeth to keep from cringing.  
  


“Protip. I have a name. Do not, ever, under any circumstances address me as ‘nurse.’ Or shit, any other nurse, for that matter. They will eat you.”  
  


I might have been a little bit more intimidating if I weren’t in Cookie Monster scrubs.  
  


He’s lucky that my father emerged before I had the chance to jump the desk and tackle him to the cold, tile floor.  
  


“Ahh, Ishida, is it?” My dad was always jovial. “Your father told me that you’d be coming by. I didn’t think it’d be so soon!” He put his arm around the guy’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go talk business. Don’t mind my son. He forgot his Oscar the Grouch scrubs,” he teased.

 

* * *

 

“You know, your bitching about my job really makes me feel like a loser.”  
  


“That’s just because you are a loser, Renji.”  
  


“Harsh much?”  
  


It’s Monday evening. You know what that means? Drinks with the boys. Well, by ‘drinks’ I meant ‘a drink and a shitton of crappy appetizers.’ And by ‘boys,’ I meant ‘the other sadsacks I was friends with that still have their marks.’  
  


But really, they’re my ride or die group.  
  


Renji Abarai does tattoos for a living. Good ones, too. He always has a waiting list, if that tells you anything. The man’s covered in ink, from his torso to his eyebrows. His hair's on fire, and so is his personality. He was my college roommate, always sprawling out on our dorm floor, papers and pencils scattered everywhere, a cigarette clenched between his teeth. On his wrist is a beautifully penned ‘K.’ I think he knows whose initial it is, but he’s too shy to take the chance and touch her.  
  


Among the four of us, Izuru Kira’s the youngest. He’s a nervous little thing without a lot of fun in his life. He worked part-time at the record store next door to Renji’s studio. For the other half of his time, he’s stuck in class or studying in his dorm. The ‘O’ on his wrist is a source of comfort for him, it seems. Though he was definitely closer to Renji than the rest of us, he was becoming an important member of our Monday Night Bitchfests. Plus, when we re-enact the scene in Step-Brothers where the asshole family sings Sweet Child O’ Mine in the car, he carries our asses.  
  


Okay, so the final regular member of our little club isn’t a guy. But trust me, she counts. Rukia Kuchiki is probably the ballsiest among us. She’s short of stature, meeting the center of my chest, but that just put her at the perfect vantage point for a nutshot. She swears that the ‘S’ on her wrist is just for show, and that she’s going to be her own soulmate. Nobody has the other half of her heart, but she’d give it, should the whim strike her. She works at the bakery across from the record store. Every night, Renji draws an elaborate design on her menu for the next day. The Soul King had blessed Rukia with an assortment of talents, but her drawings scared children.  
  


“I’m going to have a med student up my ass for the next eternity. I’d much rather be baking cakes or stocking records.” I leant against my hand, my mark clearly visible.  
  


Izuru picked up a cheese stick. “I thought all of the students did their practicals at the hospital.”  
  


I shrug. “Something about nepotism. I think his dad works there. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I was trying to change an ostomy bag.”  
  


“Eating!” Rukia reminded me, nudging me in the side.  
  


“What’s his name?” Renji asked me, as he sunk his teeth into his burger.  
  


“Uhh.. Uryuu Ishida, I think.”  
  


Renji grins, mixture of ground meat and overly processed bread still rolling around in his mouth. “Didja touch him?”  
  


I grimace. “No! The son of a bitch called me ‘Nurse.’ I’m keeping hands off, thanks.”  
  


“Awww, but he could be your soulmate!” Rukia teased, poking my mark. “How cute would that be?”  
  


I had to pop her in the mouth.  
  


“Anyway, you’ll all be interested to know that my brother is coming to town for a visit on Saturday.” She looked excited.  
  


“Really?” Izuru asked, eyes wide. “I didn’t think that Byakuya Kuchiki would spend any time here. The magazines make him out to be such a prude.”  
  


See, Rukia’s older brother, Byakuya, makes a living as an actor. A famous one. If I recall correctly, he’s an A-lister. I’m not a movie kind of guy, but I’ve seen his picture in the magazines that Rukia keeps around the bakery as a novelty. Too much of a pretty boy for my taste.  
  


“Yeah. It’ll be an interesting week for all of us, I guess.”

 

* * *

 

Having Uryuu around the clinic wasn’t as god-awful as it could be. He’s good for doing the boring shit. He takes vitals pretty well. He’s not terrible with the patients. Hell, he’d even learned his place, and ‘Nurse’ had been quickly replaced with ‘Nurse Kurosaki.’ He didn’t want to call me by my first name, and I’m okay with that. He’s just Ishida to me. He’s not a doctor yet.  
  


“Son!”  
  


I look up from my desk, where I was looking over some labs for a patient. We had just sent our last patient out the door, and it was just about time to pack up shop. “Yeah, dad?”  
  


“Let Uryuu take blood.”  
  


“Excuse me?”  
  


“You’ve got better veins than I do! They’re like little mountains!” He waved along, and left Uryuu standing by my desk. Welp. It didn’t really look like I had much of a choice.  
  


I led Uryuu to an exam room where I sat down and rested my arm on the wide arm of the chair. He sat on a stool across from me after washing his hands and gathering his supplies.  
  


“Tie the tourniquet tight, especially if the patient has deep, rolling veins. I don’t, so I’ll do it just tight enough for tension.” I skillfully tied the tourniquet around my own arm. Hey, I’d had to practice somehow, right? I offered the limb to him, mark facing upward.  
  


“Now, feel for a vein.”  
  


It didn’t even take a second. Uryuu reached out to place two fingers on the crook of my elbow, and it happened. I felt a tingle on my wrist, and the sweet, tiny, beautifully written letter ‘I’ on my wrist faded to nothing. I didn’t know what to do. I sat there, frozen, until my brain acted for me. I reached out for his left wrist and turned it, peeling his glove back.  
  


There had been a ‘K’ there a few seconds ago, I swear.  
  


We just stare at each other in awe and fear, trying to wrap our heads around the implications of what just happened.  
  


“...Should I.. still insert the needle?”


	2. i think i like you

I’m going to cry.

No. Scratch that. I’m going to vomit.

My mark is gone. Poof. It just faded away like it does in shitty romance movies. The boy takes the girl by the hand, pulls her close, and there’s a closeup of her mark fading into the abyss. She cries. He kisses her. Petals or raindrops fall from the sky, and there’s a cheesy cutscene of them living out their lives with their four kids and dog.

There’s no rain in my story. He didn’t lean in for a kiss. He did look like he was going to cry, but not out of joy. There will be no offspring production, thank you very much, but a dog might be negotiable.

I rip the gauze ball off of my arm as I storm out of the exam room. I didn’t see Ishida move, let alone try to follow me. He was just sitting there, holding a vial of my blood in his shaking hand.

Orihime could sense my distress, but I didn’t give her the chance to ask me what was the matter. I jog out to my car, and within seconds, my tires are screeching on the pavement.

I know where I’ve gotta go.

 

* * *

 

The little strip where Renji, Izuru, and Rukia work is one of my favourite places in the universe. It borders Karakura Town’s little park, and draws a lot of foot traffic from the young adult population. It’s surprisingly upscale, even with the man with the guitar and upturned hat, singing something that sounds suspiciously like Taylor Swift. I throw a dollar in and he smiles, taking a moment to thank me and toss back his barely manageable blonde curls.

I step into the crowded bakery and sit my ass down at one of the corner tables. I pull my phone out and send a text to Izuru and Renji, hoping that the urgency came through in my emoji choices.

Rukia joins first, having yelled ‘break time!’ and practically jumped the counter. Izuru comes next, very nearly wiping out a bakery patron as he yanks the door open. Renji arrives at his leisure, hands resting on the back of his head.

“Who’s dyin’?” he asks, plopping down and taking a bite of the cookie that Izuru had ordered.

“Me,” I groan, leaning back against my chair. Reluctantly, I turn my wrists over, revealing their terrifying blankness. “Fucking Ishida.”

Renji jumps up in celebration. “Woo! Pay up, guys!”

Izuru and Rukia grumble as they dig into their pockets and hand over a twenty dollar bill each.

“Thank you, thank you.” Renji kisses the bills before shoving them into his pocket.

“Can we get back to the situation at hand?” I cry. Rukia snorts at the pun.

Izuru pats my back. “It’s not a bad thing, Ichigo. You found your Heavensent! Do you know what I’d give to find mine?” he insists, nibbling on his cookie.

“Left nut, probably,” Renji shrugs, and barely ducks Rukia’s hook.

I slam my forehead against the table. “He irons his ties,” I point out. “And he does needlepoint while we wait between patients,” I grumble. “He’s a prude. He’s a pain in the ass. He’s--”

“Tidy. Crafty. Intelligent. And I saw him leaving one day. He’s handsome.” Rukia punches me on the arm. “Ichigo. The Soul King could have picked someone far worse for you.”

I don’t respond. She’ll understand when she actually talks to the guy. Instead, I put my head down on the table while Renji steals my bagel.

As Renji, Izuru, and I wander back onto the street, I pause as the busker from earlier jogs over to Izuru, a smile on his face. Izuru stopped and fiddled with his sleeves, a blush on his cheeks. Renji and I share a glance and raised eyebrows.

“Oh, hello, Rose.”

“Izuru,” he greets with a polite bow. “I thoroughly enjoyed the last record you picked out for me. Would it be too much trouble to ask you to do it once more? I think that I might like some jazz this time.”

Izuru mirrored his smile. “Absolutely. Come by the shop in an hour?”

“I’ll be there.”

At least we get to turn our picking to Izuru for a little while before I go hop into the lion’s den. My dad is going to lose his goddamn mind. I know my father. He’s going to be more excited than he has any right to be, gush about our ‘blossom into manhood,’ and probably start crying. This is a disaster. And my sisters-- they’re probably going to think it’s the most romantic thing in the world. That’s the bad thing about being surrounded by such emotional people. They take everything way out of proportion.

I hang my bag on the door as I walk inside, and brace myself for the onslaught. I know that Ishida probably already told my father everything. He seems like the mouthy type.

“Ichigo!” I stop in my tracks. Just as expected, my father runs up to me, and punches me square in the shoulder. “Congratulations, my son!” he cries, using the fact that I’m doubled over in pain to his advantage to wrap his arms around me. He rubs his stubbly chin against my cheek, and I finally get the chance to shove him off of me.

“The hell was that for?” I cry, rubbing my shoulder and my cheek.

“Uryuu told me everything! I’m so proud of you! You’ve found your Heavensent!” The epithet makes me cringe. “And such a good boy, too! I was worried that your soulmate would be a-- nevermind.” He waves the thought away.

I roll my eyes and make my way into the kitchen. I can smell food. My sister Yuzu is the little cook of the family. Most of her recipes are fairly simple-- she’s only eleven, after all. I don’t mind. It’s food, isn’t it? If she wants to serve nothing but omurice and miso soup, I’ll eat it. It had been our mother who taught her how to cook, and Yuzu likes to honor her in the kitchen as much as she can.

But that’s not Yuzu.

Dressed in dad’s apron, Uryuu is standing at the stove, making.. holy shit, steamed pork buns? Yuzu’s beside him, checking the rice cooker and watching him in awe. She turns to me with a smile, scooping the rice out into dishes.

“Ichigo! Isn’t Mr. Ishida nice?” she asks, absolutely beaming. “I said that I was sorry that I couldn’t make anything more tasty than chicken, but he offered to teach me how to make nikuman!” She places the bowls of rice at each place setting.

If it weren’t for Yuzu and her enthusiasm, I probably would have ended up dragging Ishida out by the ear. But I’m soft. My sister’s happiness trumps my pissiness. I’d just send angry texts to the gang after dinner.

My father and Yuzu were spending dinner bombarding Ishida with questions. What’s his family like? Where did he grow up? Why does he want to be a doctor? What kind of doctor does he want to be? Of course he wants to be a dermatologist. Karin and I were ignoring them as well as we could. I’m not interested in his life story, and Karin takes a while to warm up to new people.

“Yeah, but why are you here?” Karin asked, looking up from her bowl of rice. Finally, the hard-hitting questions.

Ishida was blushing. Like, actual blushing, like he’s a twenty-five year old schoolgirl.

“Ichigo is my soulmate.”

That’s the first time I’ve ever heard him say my given time. I watch as Yuzu grows starry-eyed, and I’m pretty sure that’s my cue to excuse myself.

“Excuse me,” I say, standing from the table. “Thank you for the dinner.” I bow to Ishida before jogging up the stairs to my bedroom. I can hear my father call out a disappointed “Ichigo!” but it’s too late.

The first order of business is a bath. I take a quick shower before sinking into the tub, nose barely above the waterline. I’m there until the water is cold, mind obsessing over nothing and everything at the same time. This is fucked up. Just last week, I was taking my girlfriend to the movies, spending the night at her house.. and now I’m thinking of the way I’m going to tell her that my mark is gone. Is she going to cry? Is she going to pretend to be happy, but be destroyed inside? Am I going to break her heart? We’ve been together since we were seventeen, goddammit. That’s almost a decade, if you’re counting.

As soon as I’m out of the bath and have a pair of pants on, I wander over to my computer. Like typical young adults, my friends and I are kind of.. technology-addicted. We have a standing group chat on Skype.

[Izuru]: Ichigo! :D

[Rukia]: Hey, Kurosaki.

[Renji]: sup nerd

[Renji]: have you told Inoue yet?

[Orihime]: Told me what?

[Izuru]: Oh shit.

[Rukia]: Goddammit Renji.

[Orihime]: ????

 

I take in a deep breath. That redheaded son of a bitch really has no tact, does he?

 

[Ichigo]: My mark disappeared.

 

Moments were passing, and nobody typed anything. Shit. Fuck. I hate my life.

 

[Ichigo]: It’s Ishida.

[Orihime]: …..EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!! <3 <3 <3

[Rukia]: That’s… not the reaction I braced for.

[Izuru]: ??

[Orihime]: I’m SO EXCITED!!!!!!!!!!! *:D *:D *:D ! (see? it’s me with my hairpin!!!)

 

I sit in my chair dumbfounded for a second.

 

[Ichigo]: ...You’re not mad?

[Orihime]: NO! Ichigo, I’m so happy for you!!! You two are going to be the cutest couple in the world!! Can I be in the wedding? *:D

[Ichigo]: ….You’re really not mad?

[Orihime]: Well, I’m going to miss the sex.. a lot.

[Izuru]: @___@

[Rukia]: That’s why the Soul King invented vibrators, my dear.

[Izuru]: omg.

[Renji]: fuck i forgot that kira’s a virgin.

[Orihime]: Really, Ichigo. Honestly, I’ve been thinking of breaking up with you for a while now.. we need to branch out and find our true loves. And you found yours!! *:D Besides, I hear the sex is a lot better with your soulmate!! You feel it on a spiritual level.. it’s amazing!!

[Ichigo]: WHAT??

[Rukia]: Keep your panties on.

[Orihime]: Who said I was wearing any? *>:)

[Renji]: ...Orihime Inoue, I’m putting you under citizen’s arrest for the murder of Izuru Kira. Anything you say can and will go into my spank bank.

[Izuru]: I literally hate all of you.

[Renji]: :*

[Rukia]: Anyway. Anyone free tomorrow? I have to make my big brother think I have friends. We’re going to go get sushi, no big. We don’t want to be recognized.

[Renji]: i’m literally always down for free food.

[Ichigo]: Me too.. considering I just got BROKEN UP WITH.

[Orihime]: I’m sorry!! And I’m super sorry, Rukia.. I promised to go shopping with one of my friends from college!

[Izuru]: I have to work. :(

[Renji]: puhleeeeeze. you volunteered to work because you know rose is going to stand outside and sing wonderwall for ten hours.

[Rukia]: He literally sang What’s New Pussycat? nine times, and threw in a It’s Not Unusual. I almost shoved a bagel into his mouth.

[Ichigo]: Better than what Izuru wants to shove into his mouth.

[Izuru]: ;A;

[Rukia]: Hey, wait. I never said I was paying for you moochers.

[Renji]: See you tomorrow, Rukia! :D

[Ichigo]: Look at the time!!! I better go to bed and get ready for tomorrow! :D

[Rukia]: You asshats..

 

It’s still early, but I do need to go to bed. It’s not unusual for me to spend a great deal of my time in my bedroom. The others probably weren’t going to bother me. Besides, I need to process what had happened just a few minutes prior. I’m single. My ex-girlfriend had been planning to dump me, anyway, and I’d had no idea. But I know why she was considering it. The unknown is fascinating. What could happen? Could I really love someone more than I love Orihime?

Ishida’s not bad-looking, I guess. His hair looks soft. His lips are full, except when he purses them, trying out his impression of an angry butthole. He’s got a cute, upturned, pointed nose. His hands are beautiful. And that’s not even my opinion. It’s fact. They’re long and slender, agile and accurate. The needlepoint he does is proof of that, even if I think it’s a little.. well, we’re not going to go into what I think it’s like.

I’m not expecting the sudden intrusion, so I scream, sitting up in my bed. Two beautiful hands are held up in surrender.

“Do you know how to knock?!” I demand.

He pushes his glasses up on his nose, closing his stance. His arms cross over his chest. “...Your father told me that this was the restroom.”

“That jackass,” I mutter, lying back down. “Next door.”

“Kurosaki.”

“What?”

“...We should talk,” he suggests, dropping his arms.

I snort. “About what? We don’t need to talk.”

“Don’t need to talk?” he asks incredulously. “We are literally made for each other. Our souls are intertwined and you don’t even care to acknowledge it?”

I drag both hands down my face. “Look. Ishida. It’s been a day. I’m glad that you seem like you’ve got all your shit together, but I just had my girlfriend of almost a decade break up with me like it’s the most casual thing in the world. Get off my back, dude.” I’m a little more harsh than I need to be, but really, I need space. I need processing time. And I don’t need a prettyboy crying about how ‘his soul aches for mine’ while I’m trying to come to terms with everything that had happened that day.

He’s quiet before giving me a strained “Fine.”

I punch my mattress as he leaves, the door clicking behind me. I’m going to have to apologize sooner or later, but for now, we both need to let this simmer.

But hey, I’m meeting a movie star tomorrow. That’s pretty cool, right?

 

* * *

 

Rukia, Renji, and I arrive at the restaurant well before Rukia’s brother. She’s not surprised.

“He actually gets lost pretty easily,” she laughs, picking up a pod of edamame and popping the beans into her mouth. “He doesn’t usually come to Karakura. I had to call his Uber for him.”

Renji fiddles with his shirt for a moment before standing. He’s looked tense all day, but I just figured it was some kind of performance anxiety. He can get weird and show-offy in front of new people.

“Rukia. I need to say something first, before your brother gets here.”

She rose an eyebrow. “What?”

“...This.” For the first time I’ve seen, Renji takes Rukia’s hand. Expectantly, he checks his wrist.

...Huh.

The ‘K’ on his wrist was still there. I see his brow knit, and he starts to shake her hand. Uh, buddy, that’s not how it works. He checks his wrist again. Nothing. So what does this rational fucking human do? He stands and picks our friend up out of her seat, and begins to shake her over his shoulder like an almost-empty ketchup bottle.

It’s like a car crash. I can’t look away.

Rukia looks like a cat that’s been pet in the wrong direction, and tries her damnedest to put her hair back in order. “Renji Abarai, what the fuck was that for?”

His face is beginning to match his hair color. “...I thought, maybe, that you might be my soulmate. And what better time to find out than--”

“Renji. Alphabet.” She holds up her wrist. “I have an ‘S’ on my wrist, numbnuts.”

“I was adopted! Who knows what my real last name is!” he cries. “I just thought--”

“Not to mention, I’ve touched you a hundred times by now.”

Renji’s face fell. “When? I was so careful!”

“You gave me a fist bump this morning.”

The ringing of the entry bell knocked them out of their debate. And there he was, looking like he just came from hipster romance novel. Though I’m not really a big fan of his work, I have to admit that Byakuya Kuchiki is a beautiful human being, no matter what your gender reference may be. He’s slim, average height, with the most silky-looking black hair I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s long and loose, and flows with his movement. Every step is deliberate and graceful, one foot in front of the other. His eyes are grey and aloof, lips closed. The resting bitch face he possesses reminds me strongly of Ishida’s. They might get along, I think.

The three of us stand.

“Brother, these are my friends, Ichigo and Renji.”

I smile politely, bowing low and shaking his hand. It’s reflex to look at his wrist. There’s a crudely etched ‘A’ looking quite out of place on his sophisticated wrist.

Renji’s next, shaking his hand shortly before sitting back down. Byakuya takes his place between me and Rukia.

A few moments of polite chatter later, I notice Renji take a gander at the inside of Byakuya’s wrist as they both take sushi from the plate.

“Uh, forgive me for asking, but wasn’t there an ‘A’ on your wrist a couple of minutes ago?” Renji asks.

Byakuya looks at his hand out of confusion, and there is clear panic on his face.

“You probably brushed the waiter or something,” Renji shrugs, bringing a piece of sushi to his lips.

“...There was a ‘K’ on your wrist.”

Renji almost choked on his sushi. Rukia’s green tea almost ended up drowning her. I pat her back as she coughs.

“Shit in my motherfucking--”

I tune Renji and his colorful string of expletives out in favor of surveying the others. Byakuya leans against his chair and turns his gaze skyward, calling upon the gods to grant him strength.

Rukia was accosting a waiter about ‘what the fuck is in the water?!’

This is becoming a theme.

 


	3. But Do You Like Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We explore the perspectives of Renji, Rukia, and Orihime as their marks disappear!

_Renji’s Point of View_

 

Y’know, all things considered, I really could have done worse with the whole soulmate thing. Had I wanted it to be Rukia? Yeah, but Byakuya.. wow. Talk about the perfect combination of scary and sexy. He’s beautiful. I mean, he looks kind of pissed off right now, but I can’t say that I blame him. I don’t think he was really expecting to lose his mark today. I was, but I’m.. really not fighting the twist of fate.

Ichigo bails at the first opportunity, that bastard. That leaves me with my best friend and her brother, who just happens to be my soulmate.

“We should go,” he states, waving down the waiter and handing his credit card over. Hey, I’d been kidding about what I said to Rukia. I’m more than capable of paying my way at dinner. So I do the reasonable thing and snatch the debit card out of the waiter’s hand, and I replace it with mine.

Rukia looks like she’s about to have a stroke. Byakuya actually seems to soften, though that might be my wishful thinking.

“Rukia, what’s the fastest way back to the hotel?” he asks. She opens her mouth, but I look out the window.

“My place isn’t far, and I brought my car. It might be easier.”

Rukia mouths ‘no, no, fuck no, fuck you, no,’ shaking her head subtly. She closes her eyes and mouths ‘fuck’ as Byakuya responds with “That sounds like an acceptable plan.”

After my card’s been returned, I slip some of my own tip money under my glass and leave it. I take them out to my car, and beam in pride. My baby. She’s a little old, but damn, she runs good. She’s a zippy little Toyota Supra, not much younger than I am. I can see the embarrassment in Rukia’s eyes as I move to the passenger’s side, opening the door and pulling the passenger’s seat forward to let Rukia climb into the back.

She pauses, however, eyes glued to her phone. “Shit. I’m sorry. I have to go,” she says, shaking her head. “Cake emergencies exist, and Mr. Ukitake seems to be having one. I’ll be by as soon as I can!” she cries, waving behind her as she runs off to the bakery.

I share a look with Byakuya-- my soulmate.

God, his eyes are pretty.

I gesture lamely at the passenger seat of my car, holding the door open for him. “I can take you back to your hotel if you prefer.”

“I have no preference,” he states, ducking into my car. I’m really glad that Rukia and Izuru tag-teamed a bath for the old girl last week

I nod. “Okay.” My place it is, then.

The car is quiet, the only ambient noise being my JAY-Z CD on low volume and the roar of my car’s engine. I notice him watching me as I drive. I realize that I kind of drive like a slob, leaned back in my seat, one hand on the steering wheel while the other rests on the gear shift.

“Ever driven a stick?” I ask, looking toward him.

He shakes his head. “I’ve never had the need.”

I grin. “I can teach you,” I offer, looking back at the road in front of me. “I learned out of necessity,” I admit. “Not that this’d be a concern of yours-- you probably drive a Mercedes, but manuals are cheaper. They’re more fuel efficient, too.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“You’re wrong.”

“Huh?” I look at him.

“I drive a BMW 7-Series.”

I chuckle. “I bet you do.”

My apartment isn’t nearly as messy as everyone seems to think it is. I’m never home. I’m always working, spending time with my friends, or being the sad guy alone at the bar. I don’t live in poverty, but I wouldn’t call myself rich. Those kitchen counters may not be granite, but they sure as shit aren’t particle board. The cabinets are stocked with more than ramen and vodka. I even have some tea to offer that hasn't been pre-sweetened or powdered. Plus one for being a functional adult, right?

I set a cup of tea in front of him and sit beside him on the couch. I can feel him silently judging my choices in decor.

So, uh, how does someone go about making conversation with the goddamn love of their life?

“So…” I begin lamely. “Tell me about yourself. You know, the stuff that the tabloids don't report on.”

His lips curl into a smile. “I’m naturally blonde.”

I roll my eyes and shove him. “Okay, asshole.”

I’d had my reservations. Rukia always talks about such a prude he is. Well, joke’s on her, because as the moon started to rise from its hiding place, I had that light-eyed pain in the ass in my arms, back to my chest. We were speaking freely. Maybe it’s a perk of being soulmates, but I’m able to feel his apprehension melt away.

He’s twenty nine. He puts tabasco sauce or wasabi into everything, which makes me cringe. He doesn’t like sweets-- fucking heathen. At least I won’t have to stash my sweets, huh? He can play the piano.

Bedtime came sooner than I’d expected. Sorry, my attention had been drawn elsewhere. I have a sense of self-preservation, so I don’t ask if he’d like to sleep with me. But, being the kind host I am, I offer him my bed for the evening.

“Renji,” he looks back, changing into one of my t-shirts. I pause, plucking my laptop up from my desk.

“There is one thing that you must know about me.”

He’s been married before.

Wait, what?

 

* * *

 

_Rukia’s Point of View_

 

I wasn’t kidding, you know. I really do have a cake emergency. As I run into the bakery, I jump the counter, grabbing my apron and washing my hands before grabbing some gloves.

“What seems to be the problem?”

My boss, a kind man named Jushiro Ukitake, looks down at the cake on the counter, a sheepish smile on his face. “Well, this client has ordered a Chappy cake. I’m so far backed up.. and seeing as this is your area of expertise…”

“Leave it to me, sir!” I smile, saluting him quickly before grabbing a knife to carve the cake. I have to wince. Red velvet? How gruesome!

Mr. Ukitake works beside me, but we never bump or fumble with one another. This isn’t our first time in a rush. This little shop runs like a well-oiled machine. I’m there until close, shaping the cake, rolling fondant, making decorations, piping on the face. The counter girl, Momo, leaves first. The door rings as Mr. Ukitake’s husband, a handsome restaurant owner, comes to collect him. There is a bag containing dinner for the two of them in his hand.

“Don’t work too hard, Rukia!” Mr. Ukitake’s husband calls, leaving a wrapped box of pasta on the counter. I wave and smile. They spoil me. Ever since Byakuya’s career took off, those men have really stepped into the role of my parents.

I look up through the blinding sunset as the entry bell rings. “Ahh, I’m sorry, we’re closed,” I say with a slight bow.

The man looks awkward, rubbing the back of his head. “Uh, Mr. Ukitake called and told me that the cake I ordered is ready?”

“Oh!” I grab the card from the Chappy cake. I squint, trying to read the name of the client. “Um… Mr. Shibuya?” I ask, eyebrow raised.

“Shiba,” he corrects, annoyance thinly veiled in his voice.

I ignore his tone and keep reading. “You’re all set and paid. Here you go,” I chirp, holding the cake box out to him. He slips his hands under mine to get a good grip on the box, and I feel a tingle in my wrist.

“What the--?” When the cake’s safe, I hold my wrist, trying to find the source of the stinging.

Oh. That might have something to do with it.

My mark is gone. That stupid S that had been the source of countless shameful fantasies.. had finally dissipated. I open my mouth to speak, but the expression on his face stops me.

Horror. Terror. I don’t know which one it is, but it’s definitely one of those two. He looks like I’ve stabbed him in the chest, not just handed him a deliciously morbid bunny rabbit cake.

It’s only when he’s pulling away do I notice the gold band on his left hand.

Just my luck, huh? I finally meet my soulmate-- and approve of his looks-- and he turns out to be already married.

 

* * *

 

_Orihime’s Point of View_

 

Monday comes faster than I would have liked. I spent the whole weekend playing video games and watching cartoons. Was that me moping for my relationship with Ichigo? No, no, that’s what I always do. Ichigo normally comes over, but…

Do I regret it? Not a chance! I’m so excited to find out about my soulmate. What will he look like? Will he be tall? Will he be sweet and romantic? I find myself daydreaming at my computer, hips swiveling in my office chair.

“Uh, princess? Hello? Earth to princess? A little help here?”

I snap back to reality at the sight of blood. A man is standing in front of me, clutching his shoulder. His shirt’s ripped, and…

“Oh my God, are those claw marks?” I cry, jumping from my chair. I rush toward him, laying both hands on his injured arm. “Dr. Kurosaki! Ichigo! Uryuu!” I call. Ichigo and Uryuu run to the sounds of my panic, and I hear a quiet ‘what the fuck?’ from Ichigo and a ‘holy shit’ from Uryuu.

“Sir, did you get mauled by a lion?” Uryuu asks, sitting the man in a wheelchair.

“Puma. Close, but no cigar.”

Uryuu looks like he’s gonna have a stroke. “How in God’s name did you get that close to a--”

“I work at the big cat rescu-- fuck, be fuckin’ gentle,” he chastised, swatting at Uryuu as he tried to examine the wound. “Vinnie thought his old buddy Grimmjow smelled an awful lot like dinner. He didn’t go for the choice-ass beef, but he thought that human flesh might be a good fucking appeti-- SHIT, I told you to be gentle!”

Uryuu groaned. “Ichigo, can you ask your father to come stitch him up? I’m sure that you and I can easily handle a sick kid.”

I kind of lose track of time after that. I say goodbye to everyone-- Dr. Kurosaki, Ichigo.. I even pull Uryuu aside and tell him that I hope that Ichigo gets over himself soon.

“It’ll happen!” I chirp, patting his shoulder enthusiastically. “He just takes some time to warm up. But once he does, he’s super clingy! He won’t let you out of his sight! Ooh, and he kisses really well, too!”

“I can hear you!” Ichigo calls from the nurse’s station. I salute Uryuu and bounce off.

I have a lot of errands to run. I get my hair cut. I get a pedicure. I go to the bank. I go to the grocery store. I go to the bank again, because I lost my card between there and the store!

By the time I get home, I’m ready to unwind a little bit. So I take a selfie with my teacup, and send it out to all of my friends!

“Woah, six people snapped me back? It’s been a minute!”

I open the snap from Izuru. It’s a picture of him at work, looking a little confused. ‘Uhhhh, Inoue?’

Uryuu’s is a picture of him covering his mouth, no caption.

Ichigo’s is a blurry picture that says ‘WTF???’

Renji’s is a picture of a pretty.. girl asleep in his bed? Or maybe that’s a boy. I can’t really tell from the picture. ‘I’m going to jizz my pants.’ Oh. Okay.

Rukia’s is a picture of the traffic ahead of her at a stoplight. ‘Got something to tell me??’

Renji snaps again. There we go. ‘Dude, where’s your fuckin mark?’

Mark? What? I look down at my wrist.

No mark.

“Oh snickerdoodle!” I slam my hand down on my table.

 

* * *

 

_Ichigo’s Point of View_

 

I plop down in my chair, finally changed out of my scrubs and settled into my pajamas. Having nothing better to do, I boot up my computer and find my way into the Skype chat. Hey, I have some stories to tell. How often do you get a patient that got mauled by a fucking wild animal?

That, and I really want to know what the fuck happened to Inoue.

 

[Ichigo]: Hey, guys.

[Rukia]: TODAY SUCKS.

[Orihime]: YOU’RE TELLING ME!!! ;A;

[Izuru]: Eh, it was okay.

[Renji]: i totally have a boner right now.

[Izuru]: Thanks.

[Ichigo]: Woah, woah, one at a time.

[Ichigo]: Not you, Renji. I don’t want to hear about your junk.

[Renji]: pft your loss.

[Orihime]: I have no idea when I lost my mark! I’ve touched so many people today! Patients, the lady who did my hair, the lady who did my toes, two different bankers, I might have bumped into people at the grocery store.. I helped an old lady across the street! I’ve met my soulmate, and I don’t even know who they are! Oh, no!!! What if they’re all sad and looking for me, too? Here’s what we need to do, guys. Ichigo, can you get a DNA tester and a pair of tweezers?

[Ichigo]: Uhhh..

[Izuru]: Don’t worry, Orihime. He or she probably noticed and is just too shy to say something! They’ll come around.

[Rukia]: ...I met my soulmate today, too.

[Orihime]: HUH????

[Izuru]: Who is it?

[Ichigo]: What is *happening* in Karakura?

[Rukia]: His name is Kaien Shiba. Facebook confirms that he’s been married for five years.

[Ichigo]: Ew, that’s my cousin.

[Rukia]: EVEN FUCKING BETTER.

[Rukia]: He just.. ran off.

[Renji]: i’ll kick his ass.

[Izuru]: Renji, I think this means we’re the only ones with our marks.

[Renji]: nah, mine’s gone. rukia’s fine-ass brother’s sleeping in the next room. that’s why i got a boner.

[Izuru]: ….Awesome.

[Ichigo]: Don’t feel bad. I don’t think that any one of us is really having a great time with it..

[Orihime]: I would be, if I knew who it was! :I

[Renji]: you still got cold feet about your man, kurosaki?

[Ichigo]: Duh. He’s a pain in the ass.

[Renji]: fuck him.

[Ichigo]: What?

[Renji]: can’t hate someone if you’ve nutted in ‘em.

[Izuru]: I think that logic’s flawed..

[Orihime]: Well, I mean.. hormones and such..

[Rukia]: Renji, I know you’ve been banished to your own couch. Can’t take your own medicine?

[Rukia]: ...wait.

[Rukia]: DO NOT FUCK MY BROTHER.

 

And that’s my cue to log off for the night. I sigh and close my laptop. I wander to bed, spending a few minutes face-down on the pillows. I’m exhausted. This Ishida thing is really throwing me for a loop. I don’t know what to do. Should I talk to him? Should I hope this goes away? Can I hope that he’s not in love with me, and this isn’t tearing him apart? I may not like the guy, but I don’t want him to suffer on my behalf.

I don’t really have any time to debate with myself anymore. I look up as my bedroom door opens and there he is, standing awkwardly with a suitcase in-hand.

“Your father won’t let me leave.”

“Uh?” I squeak lamely.

He pushes his glasses up. “He said that I’m part of the family now, and insists that I spend the night. I tried to sleep on the couch, and he sprawled himself over it.” He drops his bag and closes his body language.

“I know you hate me. I tried to avoid this. But.. I’m tired. Can you scream at me in the morning?”

 


	4. I Think I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo and Uryuu bond, while Izuru finds his soulmate. Renji makes the author switch the rating to Explicit..

H-hate him? Who said I hate him? I mean, he's an unholy pain in my ass, stuck up, and just the tiniest bit self-righteous… but I don't think I hate him. But judging by his current state, I'm pretty darn sure he hates me. And you know what? I kind of deserve it this time. At least, he's making me feel like I deserve it.  
  


“I'm guessing that you didn't have this experience growing up,” Ishida begins to pace, arms crossed. “I used to lie in my bed and stare at my mark for hours. Wondering, fantasizing. What would he look like? Would he want children? What would his name be? Would he like the same foods I do? No matter what trivial detail I occupied myself with, some things were… assumed. He would love me. He would want to be with me. That was the important thing.” I can taste his embarrassment in the air. It's clear to me that he didn't want to tell me this, but it's just pouring out of him.  
  


I look down and silently wonder to myself if the fall from my bedroom window would be enough to kill me.  
  


“I never.. accounted for the idea that he wouldn't want me,” he says, holding his glasses up. “Or that his father would only extend my agony by making me.. exist next to him at all hours of the day, holding the shame that I know that he couldn’t care less about me..” He sat down on the floor by the bed. “Or that he'd take every given opportunity to make fun of me, for my looks, that I like to work with needle and thread.”  
  


Guilt holds me in a chokehold. I scoot to the side of the bed before getting up. I gather a hoodie of mine, and a pair of lounge pants.  
  


“I'm sorry,” I say plainly, holding my arms out to my sides. “That's all I can really say. But I'm sorry. I was an asshole. I am an asshole.” I set the clothes down beside me. “Put those on, and get into the bed. The least I can do for you is hold you for a little while.”  
  


Ishida looks offended. “Hold me? I don't need your sympathy, Kurosaki.”  
  


I elect to ignore his second sentence and just lie down, paying the bed beside me. “Yeah. You know. Like cuddling.” I watch as, reluctantly, he strips down and puts the clothing on. My hoodie swallows him, and my pants cover his feet. When he lies down beside me, I move close, wrapping my arm around his waist. My nose is buried into his neck. He smells good, like flowers and my body spray.  
  


“Is this a little closer to expectation?” I ask, rubbing his side. He's quiet, and I can feel his body shake and his breath go uneven.  
  


He's trying not to cry.  
  


“Hey, hey,” I whisper into his ear. I hold him tighter, lacing our fingers together. He holds me like a death grip.  
  


Moments pass and he calms, soothed by either my presence or exhaustion. I feel myself relax with every passing heartbeat. The hand that is resting on his hip slips forward, and sparks shoot up my spine as my palm slides against the bare skin of his belly. I keep a close eye on his reaction as I smooth my hand up his stomach and let my palm cover his navel. He makes no sound or movement in protest, so I snuggle closer, a barely-there smile hidden against the back of his neck.  
  


Frankly, I’m startled by how good I feel in the morning. I’m more of a night owl, really, but I’m up of my own volition before the screaming of my alarm. Uryuu’s beginning to stir, though I can tell that he’s been limiting his movement to avoid waking me.  
  


“Hey.” My voice is groggy, but he smiles anyway, breaking free from me to roll onto his back and stretch. The sleeves of the hoodie cover his hands as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, and it takes everything in me to not just roll him back up in the blankets, unplug my alarm clock, and spend the rest of the day in bed.  
  


“I’m gonna go shower,” I mutter, sitting up and sparing a look back at him as I sit up. I can’t help but chuckle at myself as I see a wet spot on his neck.  
  


I’d drooled on him while we slept.  
  


I brush his cheek with the back of my hand and wipe the drool off with my sleeve. He smiles in appreciation. As I’m walking into the hallway, I catch a glimpse of him bundling himself up in my hoodie, inhaling my scent.  
  


Goddammit.  
  


Where did this crush come from? And why do I like it? Just a few days ago, I was cursing the boy’s existence, and now I can’t wait to get back to him. Sleeping with him must have sparked something inside of me. It’s not that surprising, really. Nobody really understands the mechanical workings of the soulmate system. Scientists have been trying for centuries. But it was clear to me that my soul was trying to encourage me to stay with him, over-pumping my blood with endorphins, bonding hormones, and adrenaline. I let my head thunk against the shower wall, and turn the faucet to the ‘cold’ setting.

* * *

 

_Izuru’s Point of View_   
  


I’m not jealous of the others. I’m really not. I don’t envy Ichigo, who harbors no affection whatsoever for his soulmate. Renji is in the opposite situation-- though Byakuya Kuchiki seems to tolerate him, he’s been given the cold shoulder, for the most part. Poor Orihime can’t catch a break. She doesn’t even know when her mark disappeared, let alone who triggered it. Rukia has found no better luck, with her soulmate wearing another woman’s ring.  
  


I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes. Finding a soulmate after marriage has long been the topic of moral debates. Which love is better, the love of someone you choose, or the love of somebody fated to you? Is there really such a thing as ‘better’ love? How is it measured? Can there be perfect love? That poor man must be beside himself. Imagine, looking at your wedding ring and wrist, knowing that there’s such a discrepancy between the two.  
  


I’m stocking shelves as I think to myself, staring blankly at some collection of classic rock. A flash of blonde hair in my peripheral vision pulls me out of my thoughts.  
  


Rose.  
  


My crush on him is embarrassing. It really is. Everybody else knows him only as a street performer, aloof and disinterested, in love only with the guitar attached to his fingertips. I know better than that. He’s a sweet man. He doesn’t go busking to support himself. He donates all of the money he earns. He just likes to make music.  
  


“Rose,” I greet with a bow. “Can I help you with something?”  
  


“...Would you like to hold my hand?” he asks, reaching out to me.  
  


“..Excuse me?” I squeak.  
  


He smiles, tucking hair behind his ear. “I’ve known you for quite some time, Mr. Kira. You’re such a sweet boy, but you’re always so sad. I just thought that it might cheer you up, having a hand to hold.”  
  


Reluctantly, I free one hand, balancing a stack of records in the other. Playfully, I lay my hand in his, but he takes it and threads our fingers together. He brings it to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. I’m blushing by the time his eyes meet mine.  
  


“I choose to play outside this shop because seeing you through the window provides me with such ample inspiration.” He brushes my bangs out of my eyes. “I’d be honored if you’d continue to inspire me in all aspects of my life.”  
  


Rose supinates my wrist and brushes his thumb over where a perfect little ‘O’ once laid.  
  


Wordlessly, the records I’m holding fall to the ground. I wrap my arms around his neck and stand on tiptoe to pull him into a kiss. Our noses bump and our teeth clink, but it doesn’t seem to perturb him. It’s my first, after all, and Rose seems able to pick up on that. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t tease. He simply guides me along into the kiss, helping me relax and soften.  
  


“ _You didn’t have to offer your hand, ‘cause since I’ve kissed it, I am at your command_ ,” he sings into my ear, lips resting against my temple.  
  


“ _Oh, turpentine erase me whole. I don't want to live my life alone.. I was waiting for you all my life_ ,” I sing back, and he can’t resist kissing me again.  
  


I make the announcement that evening. I take a picture as he kisses my cheek in the glowing light of the sunset. He takes a picture of me with my phone while I carry his guitar case. I’m looking back at him, hand shielding my eyes from the low-lying light. My beautifully blank wrist is visible to a trained eye.  
  


And, judging by my facebook comments, my friends are secretly sharpshooters.  
  


‘Fucking knew it,’ Rukia comments.  
  


Orihime sends four lines of heart emojis.  
  


Ichigo likes it.  
  


‘Cool, congrats, but do you think you could possibly tell him to mix it up sometimes? He sang Stairway to Heaven seven times today.’  
  


Yeah, that had been on purpose. He kind of has a twisted sense of humor..

* * *

 

_Renji’s Point of View_   
  


Am I supposed to ask about his wife? I’m guessing there’s a story there. There’s no ring on his finger. He’s slept in my bed-- granted, without me-- for a few days. I guess I’m thankful for the information, though. It gives a lot of insight. He’s a cold kind of guy, his nose stuck in the air. He’s reluctant to touch me, to talk to me at length. I’ve made it clear to him that he’s totally free to leave; that I’ll drive him to any hotel or airport he desires. But he still chooses to stay here, eating my food and using my shampoo.  
  


“Give him time,” Rukia insists. “He’s not as much of an ass as he’s making himself out to be. He’s hurt. Show him a little patience.”  
  


I let out a breath as I walk into my-- no, his bedroom. He’s sitting up, a book in his lap.  
  


“Hey.” I sit down at the side of the bed, in line with his knee. “So, uh..” I don’t know how to phrase this. “Do you like me?”  
  


He puts his book down and I can hear a gentle sigh.  
  


“I don’t care about the answer, I just need to know.” My arms drop heavily at my sides.  
  


“I like you.”  
  


I wasn’t really expecting that answer. I’d fully resigned myself to the idea of never seeing him naked. Platonic soulmates exist. Did I want that? No, not really. But if that was what we’re destined for, I’m just gonna have to learn to turn that part of me that wanted to rip his clothes off to the ‘off’ position.  
  


But, he likes me. I don’t need to worry about that.  
  


“Wait, when you say like--”  
  


“You’re handsome, and I.. occasionally find your behaviour endearing.”  
  


Okay, that was a little stilted, but it’s a start. I visibly relax, turning toward him and tucking my feet underneath me.  
  


“I’m guessing that the thought of my wife worries you?”  
  


I nod. ‘Worry’ is a light term.  
  


Byakuya looks up at me with those beautiful eyes of his. He’s bracing himself. “Her name was Hisana. We were married for six months,” he admits. God, such a short time. “She fell ill during our engagement and passed away not even a year later. It was simultaneously the best and worst six months of my life.” I move closer to him, and he gives way so that we can sit side-by-side.  
  


“I was angry, Renji. Angry that she’d died. Angry that it wasn’t her initial on my wrist. Angry that the possibility of me loving somebody more than I loved her was a reality.”  
  


At that, I interrupt him. “I don’t think love is a ‘less’ and ‘more’ concept, y’know? I think it’s a matter of differences.”  
  


He’s never considered that, I can tell by the look on his face.  
  


“I mean, I’d like to have a relationship with you. Totally. But if you need to take it slow, or want to keep it surface-deep, I can do that.” I won’t like it, but his mood resonates deep in my heart. The thought of his happiness makes it race, while the thought of his misery fractures it.  
  


Byakuya doesn’t respond to me. Instead, he shifts so that he’s only taking up the right side of the bed.  
  


“Would you like to sleep with me tonight?”  
  


I light up. “Like--?”  
  


“Not sex,” he corrects, though there’s some mischief in his eye. “Though, you did pay for my dinner.”  
  


I laugh and eagerly tug my shirt over my head. I plop down beside him and give him a grin. He doesn’t even notice. He’s too busy looking at my tattoos.  
  


Tattoos are my life. I spend my days with the machine in my hand, inking permanent poetry onto people’s skin. Each design means something. There’s motivation behind it. I’m addicted to the buzzing of the gun, the smell of the soap I use. It’s no surprise that I’m covered in ink myself, from my face to my legs. They’re sharp, symmetrical tribal designs. They’re rugged and tough, while still flowing with my anatomy.  
  


My stomach flutters as his delicate fingers trace the stripes on my ribs. I close my eyes as he takes his time, letting his hand smooth over the artificial pigment of my skin. He wanders away from them, and my abs twitch as he brushes over my stomach, over my nipples, and down again.  
  


“Woah,” I whisper, one eye opening. He is perched between my legs, and I can hear the soft ‘pop’ and zip’ as he opens my zipper. “I thought..?”  
  


“I’d like to see how far they go, if you’ll permit?” The licking of his lips almost kills me.  
  


I nod enthusiastically, and help him take off my pants. I’m not wearing underwear. He’s gonna have to get used to that. My boys like to be free. Byakuya-- sadly-- pays my erection no mind, instead rubbing over my thighs. He rolls me onto my stomach and melt as he massages my back and ass. I could ignore my boner forever if he’d keep digging those fingers into my shoulders. But he stops and I turn back around, cock red and hard at this point. Hey, I can’t help it. My stunningly gorgeous soulmate was just putting his hands on me!  
  


Gingerly, he reaches out and strokes the tip. Every deity imaginable receives my praise. I hiss and my hips raise as his hand wraps around it. I see his mouth open and his head lower, and I nearly scream in celebration. But first.  
  


“Hey, wait.” He does, gripping my hard-on awkwardly. I sit up so we’re face to face, take him by the back of the neck, and kiss him senseless. He’s a good kisser, enticing me with gentle flicks of the tongue that I can’t wait to feel on my cock.  
  


I lay him back on the bed, taking advantage of the fact that kisses seem to render him boneless. I slide my hands up his shirt and toss it to the side, eagerly rubbing his nipples as he sucks on my tongue. His back arches off of the bed and I smirk. I settle between his legs and begin to rut against him, the stiffness of his own erection through his lounge pants bringing a cocky grin to my face.  
  


It’s not long before it’s too much for him. He’s moaning into my mouth, voice tightening and hips stuttering. I take the chance to pull him out of his pants and give him a few strokes. That’s all it takes. He pauses against me, mouth open against mine in a silent scream as he spills himself on our   
  


The ego boost of giving him an orgasm with such light touches is overshadowed by the urgency of my erection. Keeping my hands off is proving difficult. Finally, I’m able to rise up onto my knees. He grips the base as he moves into position. I stroke his hair out of his face and hiss as he rewards me by taking the head into his   
  


He sucks me off with a skill I don’t question. It’s hesitant but wickedly good, and I suspect that his aptitude is natural. I run my hands through the silk of his hair, pushing the strands away from his face so I can watch him. He looks up at me as he takes as much as he can into his mouth, and fuck it, I lose   
  


“Shit, Byakuya,” is the only warning he gets, along with a tightening of my grip in his hair. He makes no move to pull away. With a strained “Fuuuck,” I come in his mouth, head thrown back, chest heaving. When my eyes are able to focus on him, he makes eye contact and swallows. I snarl out a curse and my cock twitches, spurting a little bit against his lips.  
  


I collapse against the pillows and hold my arms out to him, quietly demanding that he come and snuggle with me. He obliges and tucks himself against my shoulder.  
  


“...I thought you said no sex?” I ask, looking down at him.  
  


His eyes are closed. “I changed my mind.”

* * *

 

_Ichigo’s Point of View_   
  


As soon as my day’s work is done, my father sends me to go get his car’s oil changed. Why that couldn’t wait for the weekend, I’m not sure. But the sight I’m faced with when I come home melts away all of my irritation.  
  


Yuzu and Karin are sprawled out on the living room floor, both working intently on math homework in front of the television. My father is with them, there to offer support-- and occasional confusion. But my eyes fall on Uryuu. He’s lounging on the couch, knitting a scarf, paying half-attention to the show. I don’t know what comes over me. I drop myself face-down on top of him, snuggling my face into his soft belly. He looks down at me with confusion, but I can damn near hear his smile as he pets my hair.  
  


“Some greeting,” he teases, throwing the completed end of the scarf over my body. I grunt, too comfortable to move.  
  


“I give,” I mumble, looking up at him briefly. He pauses in his work and takes a moment to rub my head and shoulders, petting my hair and raking his nails against my scalp. It’s fucking heaven.  
  


He can’t work in that position, so I get up briefly to let him move. He’s sitting properly on the couch, and I lay my head in his lap. It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. He knits happily and I watch, mesmerised by the skillful movement of his fingers. He seems to be an expert at this, as he is with sewing. The scarf he’s knitting is beautiful, varying shades of red, black, and white, all fading into one another. It feels better than any scarf I’ve bought from a store, and it’s not even halfway done. As my father assists my sisters with their homework, we both call out corrections as-needed.  
  


Ishida makes dinner for us, as Yuzu has gotten worked up over her lack of understanding the division of fractions. He cooks a ginger chicken dish, and I think my family is going to fall in love with him. While we clean up, I take him from behind and place my arms around his hips.  
  


“Hey. Thanks,” I whisper against his ear.  
  


“For what?” he asks, looking back at me.  
  


“Just.. everything.” He puts down the dish he’s washing and turns in my arms.  
  


We press our noses together for a moment, simply breathing each other’s air. I cup his cheek and his breath hitches. We come together slowly, tenderly, closing the distance between us as our lips meet for the first time. It’s his first kiss, I can tell, but I don’t begrudge him that. I break it off to give him a chance to catch his breath.  
  


We are interrupted by an eruption of applause.  
  


I go red, and so does he. But instead of scrambling, we take each other’s faces in our hands and kiss again, harder this time, and I extend my middle finger to my father and sisters.  
  


When we go to bed, it’s his head on my belly this time. I rub his neck idly.

  
“All of my friends have lost their marks since you came around. You must be good luck,” I tease. “Hey.. do you want to meet them?”

  
He looks up at me. “Meet your friends? Really?”

  
“Well, you already know my dad and sisters. This is the next logical step. They’ll like you. We can meet up with them on Friday.” I smile, resting my hand on his back.

  
He takes his glasses off and places them on the bedside table. He nods, I turn off the light.

Oh. Shit. I have to prepare Uryuu for the massive onslaught of deeply personal questions he’s going to be barraged with.

 


	5. Can I Love You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The complete group mingles together for the first time! Orihime gets a little surprise at her front door.. (chapter nsfw.)

Friday comes sooner than I think it has any reason to. I'm not complaining, though. I'm actually pretty pumped. Our little group of misfits has doubled. Well, it would be doubled if Orihime could just find her soulmate. That poor girl. She seems to be coping with it pretty well, though. Who knew that someone could be such a thorough detective? So far, she's narrowed it down to.. the Prime Minister and a K-Pop star. It's kinda sad, but I keep the thought to myself. If it makes her happy…

We all decided to meet up at this restaurant off of Main Street. We don't go to fancy places- when our little group gets together, we tend to get loud. Not disruptively so, but we're high-energy people. Well, Renji and I are. Rukia and Izuru spend a lot of time judging us.

My arm is around Ishida's waist when we enter. He's dressed fairly well, but it seems to be out of nervousness. His jeans are tight, his light blue button-down fitted to his body. He's wearing one of my watches, the band slightly too loose. Fuck, he looks good. I'm not trying to impress anyone. They're all lucky I decided to wear pants.

Everyone is already there when we arrive. Well, almost everyone. I wave to them as we approach, having to give Uryuu a little bit of a push as he digs his heels into the tile.

"Everyone, this is Uryuu Ishida." He bows.

"Rose Otoribashi," Rose breathes, tossing curls out of his eyes. "And this is my lover, Izuru Kira." He rubs Izuru's shoulders. Izuru beams and offers us seats.

Renji greets him with a slight nod. "I'm Renji. I was Kurosaki's roommate in college, before he went on to get his Master's, like a rich boy," he teases with a scoff, shoving me playfully.

"Oh? What do you do now?"

Renji shrugs. "I'm a tattoo artist."

I can see Uryuu's eyebrows raise.

Byakuya introduces himself as Renji's partner, and Renji's chest puffs with pride. I mean, I get it. Byakuya's rich, famous, and pretty. And Renji is absolutely obsessed. His Facebook feed makes me gag.

"Sorry I'm late!" Orihime calls, rushing over to the table. She plops down beside Renji. In her arms is a stuffed moose.

"Uh, Inoue?" Renji asks, pointing at it.

She smiles and holds it up. "I didn't want to be the only one here alone! Since I don't know who my soulmate is, I figured that I could use him as a placeholder! Isn't he cute?" She bops his little antlers.

"I don't think you'd be alone, anyway," Renji admits. "Rukia kinda got hosed with the whole soulmate thing. Hey, where is she?"

I check my phone. "Oh. She said she'll be a little late."

I can tell that they're giving Uryuu the once-over. My friends aren't cruel, but they're bound to be curious, especially after my previous display of distaste. Renji is about to open his mouth, but the jingling of the bell at the door distracts him.

Standing beside her is the familiar face of my cousin, who looks thoroughly embarrassed and out of place. Suddenly, I can feel the judgmental stares roll past my soulmate and land on Kaien Shiba and Rukia Kuchiki. They do make a cute-looking couple, but judging by their body language, they're not here as a singular entity. She looks irritated, and he looks like he's going to fall over and die.

As expected, Kaien eagerly takes the seat next to me, the only person he knows in the whole damn restaurant. Rukia tucks her skirt down as she takes the seat beside him.

After a few moments of silence, it's, oddly enough, Rose who speaks up.

"Check out the elephant in this room," he throws out, tone just as blasé as ever.

Rukia sighs. "He and I are fated, right? Might as well get to know one another." She shrugs. "Besides, this is a social gathering, not an orgy.

"Well, shit, why am I here, then?" Renji jokes, earning a very polite stomp on the foot from Byakuya.

Everyone relaxes for a while, though the arrival of food and alcohol certainly helps that. Izuru is the only one without booze, sipping happily on ginger tea. Oh, right. He's only twenty. God, my beer makes me feel old.

"Have a sip, baby," Rose insists, taking his wine glass by the rim and placing it in front of his tiny, underaged soulmate. "It's just pinot noir."

Trying to distract from the fact that we're all accessories to supplying alcohol to minors, I turn toward Rose. "We always see you singing on the street- is that how you survive?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I'm a music therapist. That's just me sharing the blessing of song with the world." He turns his head lazily toward Izuru. "My music has been much more inspired now that I have my little muse." He strokes his hair. "Have you heard him sing?"

"Uh.. not while I was sober."

Rose put his arm around Izuru's shoulders and opens his mouth to sing after giving his song choice a moment of thought. " _I did my best, it wasn't much. I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch. I've told the truth- I didn't come to fool you._ "

" _And even though it all went wrong, I'll stand before the Lord of Song with nothing on my tongue but hallelujah._ " They came together in ethereal harmony, blending in a way that I didn't think was possible. They're both good singers, but are they really that good? The whole 'soulmates' thing really creeps me out sometimes. None of it is logical, or easily explained. I don't even begin to question it. I'm a medical professional. I understand what I can see. There are so many facets to this strange little interspiritual link.. maybe we're not supposed to understand?

Renji sips his drink. "Have you knocked loose whatever was up his ass?"

"Renji!" Izuru cries.

Rose rubs Izuru's thigh. "Don't pay him any mind. I know what you're asking, and it's not your concern. But I am trying to show him the beauty in human sexuality. Sex with your Heavensent purely for pleasure is artistry, is it not? Easily the most spiritual experience of your life."

I blush and rub my neck. Uryuu is blushing, too, trying to hide himself in his salad.

"That's right!" Orihime cries, disturbing the stuffed animal on her lap. "You two have done nothing but bicker since your marks were revealed! What happened? What caused the sudden 'click?'" she asked, manipulating the moose's little stuffed moose hands for emphasis.

"Well.." I look at Uryuu, wanting a little bit of help.

"You had sex, right?" she urges.

The two of us shake our heads slowly. Orihime gasps. "What? Ichigo! I wanted you to tell me how it is," she whines. My face outshines my hair. Uryuu seems to be a having a minor stroke in the seat beside me.

"It's.. totally different than a casual fuck. It's almost scary," Renji admits. "Every little sensation is heightened. When you're in 'the zone,' even a kiss makes you feel like you're going to bust a nut."

The more delicate members of our group crinkle their noses at Renji's choice of description. I can see that Rukia and Kaien are just trying to blend into the background. I open my mouth to engage them, as I can see Byakuya's gaze on them, but he's quicker.

"And you, Mr. Shiba?" he asks, taking a delicate sip of the scotch he's bravely working on. "You have managed to work yourself into such a delicate situation. Surely you thought of how you'd navigate?"

I wouldn't want to be my cousin right now.

"W-well," he starts weakly, Byakuya's cold glare chilling his normal unshakable confidence.

"Brother, stop it," Rukia begs. "It's only been-"

"Long enough for him to have put some thought to it. Let him speak, Rukia."

Kaien looks annoyed. "I'm married. I don't plan on changing that. Rukia and I are discussing what would be best for us as a pair. I'd think you would be a little more sensitive, being a widower yourself."

I think I can see the exact moment that my cousin is marked for a slow, painful death.

Renji looks alarmed and takes a second to turn Byakuya's attention to him, trying to whisper sweet damage control into his ear.

"Ms. Inoue, Izuru has told me about your situation. It's unfortunate. Have you been able to narrow your options at all?"

She nods happily. "Mmmhm! I'm guessing it's a patient. I just need to look through and find out which one. It was a 'J,' and they're not very common."

"She had to call me to ask what the letter was," Rukia chuckles, trying to relax from the near possibility of her gracious and sophisticated brother taking off his proverbial earrings and jumping across the table to strangle her soulmate.

Orihime just smiles, patting the moose's head. "I'm really excited to actually meet him or her and know who they are. I'm worried I won't recognize them."

"Oh, you will," Rose assures. "I can feel Izuru from miles away."

Renji nods. "You're probably more in-tune with their feelings, too. Like.." He holds up his hand, showing a slight tremble. "That's not from my beer."

She taps her chin. "Well, I've been a little hyper lately.. kind of irritated.. kind of horny," she admits. I smack my forehead.

The rest of the night went as well as could be expected. Byakuya calmed down, kind of, but I know that Kaien is going to have to choose his moves carefully. I get why Byakuya's pissed. See, the pro-soulmate argument is that taking a wife or husband that you're not fated to leaves someone left out. It gives them false hope, robs them of the chance of being with who they're 'supposed' to spend their life with. But on the other hand, it restores freedom. And what of people whose soulmates die? Those who grow old and never meet their designated partner? Do they deserve to live in loneliness? Shouldn't they be given the chance to have kids, have a wedding?

What Rukia and Kaien do is between them. It's not my place to have an opinion. After all, the one I'm fated to is currently spending the majority of his time with me, at work and at home.

Anyway. Rose has to support his wine-weakened lover on their way home. I'm not shocked. Izuru weighs, like, fifteen pounds. Renji pulls Byakuya away with a soft word, and I see them share a kiss in Renji's car. Kaien and Rukia head off in the same direction. None of us ask. Orihime walks with us, not wanting to be the weird girl walking home after dark, a stuffed moose in her arms.

When we're alone, I give in to my uncontrollable urge to wrap my arm around Uryuu's waist and hold him close. "Sorry. That was a trainwreck," I chuckle. All I can really do is laugh.

He closes his eyes and places his hands over mine. "Mmm, it wasn't bad. I felt sorry for.. was it Rukia and Kaien?" He looks at me for confirmation. "I didn't have the background, but it truly seems as if they're in an interesting situation."

I nod and let out a breath. "It really sucks. There's some really bad side-effects of this system, aren't there?"

"But there's some degree of beauty in it." We pause and I lay my head on his shoulder. He nuzzles me, and my heart flutters.

It's early, but giving in to his affection has been so much easier than fighting it. And we could have. We could have easily set fire to this relationship and both of us would be too stubborn to change our minds. But here I am, cuddling with him in the middle of the goddamn street.

I turn him around in my arms and take the opportunity to look at him. And by that, I mean that I take the chance to memorize every feature. His skin is pale and brightens in the moonlight. I once thought his nose to be snobby, but it's delicate and sophisticated. His lips are soft and a pale pink, parted slightly and showing rather impressively white teeth. I know them to be the product of those silly whitening devices. I've had to learn to interpret his series of gestures and grunts, the harsh, unnaturally blue light shining out of his mouth through the bulky mouthpiece. It's nerdy as all hell, but adorable. He's obsessed with aesthetics.. but I couldn't care less. He's beautiful, with or without his damn tooth whitening.

"Are we just going to stand on the side of the road?" he asks, one finely-shaped eyebrow raised. I release him and start walking, but I don't let go of his hand. It might not be physically possible at that point.

Thank God I get to spend the entire night curled up to him.

* * *

_Orihime's Point of View_

I really love living alone. It's too quiet for some people, but I make sure that my apartment is never quiet. I fall asleep with the TV on, play music while I get ready. I never really get lonely. I have too many friends for that! But tonight, I'm kind of feeling the emptiness.

I'm so mad at myself for missing my soulmate. I really needed some kind of flashing light or music coming out of my wrist. I really hope that Rose is right. I want to feel that spark, those butterflies.. anything. I want to know him by his shadow, by the smell of his cologne alone.

I sprawl out on the couch, bra and pants thrown haphazardly into the hamper as soon as I got home. I lay my hand on my belly, the other thrown over my head and dangling off of the arm of the couch. I'm watching some silly comedy show, but my mind has wandered into space.

I'm thinking about him.

He's probably ruggedly handsome, with scraggly hair and stubble. I'll bet he's strong, too.. I love a guy with muscles. He'll probably be kind and generous to me, taking me on dates and inviting me to spend the night with him. And during those sleepovers..

I bite my lip as the hand on my stomach slips into my Hello Kitty boyshorts. I gasp as my finger finds my clit, already swollen and wet. I arch my hips into my hand as I begin to rub, teasing it slowly and gently.

I've been doing this a lot recently. More than usual. I'm a healthy, sexually active young woman. But just yesterday, I was so desperate to touch myself that my panties were dropped to my knees and the hem of my skirt was in my mouth to both muffle my noises and grant access the moment I walked in the door. I couldn't even last until I got to the bedroom! I came right there in the doorway, back against the door and knees buckling.

If this is my soulmate's doing, he's going to have to calm himself down!

I rub myself lazily for a while, hips rolling with each stroke over the tip of my clit. I sit up and reluctantly pull my hand out, only long enough to make a little show out of stripping my shirt off and throwing it behind the sofa. I'm not putting on a display for anyone, but it sets the mood, I think.

I sit up a little better, one knee bent. My head lolls back as I begin to work my clit in earnest. I'm gasping and moaning at this point. Being vocal always embarrassed Ichigo, but so did everything related to sex.

I'm knuckle-deep in my pussy when I hear the three solid, almost violent knocks. I freeze for a second, but my hand has a mind of its own, and slides back up to my clit. Can I finish?

"Ummm, just a second!" I call tightly, rubbing myself feverishly.

Another rough knock.

No. I can't.

I mourn my lost orgasm as I jump up. I run to open the door, covering my bare breasts with my hands. "Hell-"

Oh.

It's that guy. The one who'd been swiped by a tiger, or platypus or something. He's better dressed this time, in a tanktop and a jacket trimmed with fake fur. His jeans are tight, and he's sporting quite the bulge. His hair flops into his eyes, both an almost unworldly shade of blue. His lips are rough and chapped, open slightly in shock.

Right. I'm not wearing anything on the top. Oops.

He takes my wrists, quickly but gently. I don't know what comes over me as I let him pull them away from my chest. My nipples harden quickly in the slight chill. His Adam's Apple bobs as he swallows thickly. Subconsciously, I lift my chest, and that tiny movement is all it takes. He brings his head down and takes one of my nipples into his mouth.

It's heaven.

It has never felt this good before. I let out a shameful moan, head thrown back and hands flying to his hair. He urges me backwards and slams the door behind him, never taking his mouth off of my breast. He turns me and presses me against the wall. One roughly calloused hand massages my other breast while the other one rubs me through my panties. I'm whimpering with each touch, stance widening. After a few tortuously sweet moments, he drops to his knees, and my clit throbs.

He doesn't take them off, but he slides the crotch of my panties aside with a few fingers. "Well, Hello Kitty," he teases, before delivering a long lick to my clit. My head thunks against the wall and I scream, lifting one foot off of the ground and bringing my knee to his ear. He holds my thigh, the other hand skillfully holding my panties back and spreading my inner lips. His tongue is rapture on my swollen, overstimulated clit, giving me short licks and indulgent sucks. The pleasure begins to burn, and my entrance flutters. He pauses for agonizing seconds while he drops my thigh and pulls my panties to the floor. He only has the patience to help me step out of one side, the garment wrapping around my ankle. Two of his thick fingers slide inside of me as he licks my clit like he's intent on getting me off.

He sucks on my clit mercilessly while my orgasm robs me of my ability to breathe. I can only moan, pussy squeezing rhythmically around his fingers. Once my clit is done twitching- and trust me, he's down there, flicking his tongue teasingly until the stimulation is too much and I thrust my hips into his face.

When he stands, he makes eye contact with me. He licks his fingers, wipes his mouth, and reaches to his crotch. I hear the unzipping of his fly, and can't help but arch my hips. I can practically feel the heat radiating from his cock. He's uncomfortably hard, I can tell, the head dripping and red.

"Pill?" he growls, kneading my breasts. I can feel his cock prodding blindly around my pussy, just trying to get the slightest bit wet. I nod vigorously, and he grins widely.

"Fuck yeah." His hand slides down my body and pinches the shaft of my clit before he grabs his cock and lines up with my entrance. When just the head is in, he picks up my right leg and turns it out slightly, giving him more freedom to slip inside. Once he's in, he begins to thrust, breathing hard and cursing into my ear. I don't care if people hear me. I'm crying out with every thrust. My toes curl, my arms tighten around him.

It doesn't last long. We're both too worked up. It's the clenching of my second orgasm that sets him off. He growls into my throat, thumbs my nipple, then stiffens as he fills me up.

We both come down from our high, but he's still inside of me.

"Is that how you greet everyone?" he pants, brow raised.

"No," I squeak. "Just my soulmate."


	6. Yeah, I Love You

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Not so soon, anyway. It was going to happen regardless, but I thought it would be with the summer sun chasing away the spring rain. Instead, the red maple leaves flutter to the ground with the gentle breeze. I can taste the hot caramel apple cider on his lips as I kiss him once we’re in the car. I don’t tell him where we’re going. He’ll find out soon enough. I did, however, ask him to pack some lunch.   


It was actually watching him make lunch with Yuzu that convinced me that it’s time to do this with him. He is quickly becoming part of the family, merging with our very core. He spends time tutoring Karin in language and math. Yuzu loves watching him knit and do needlepoint. He’s teaching her how to sew and cross-stitch, and has promised to teach her to crochet. My father has taken it upon himself to help him study, wanting to jam as much as he can into his Family Medicine rotation. I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to sway Uryuu’s specialty away from surgery.. so he can join the practice and stay with us.  


It’s time to introduce him to the  whole family.  


Ishida looks at me with shock in his eyes when he realizes where we are, after we’ve exited the car and started hiking up the steep incline. I quiet him with a smile, and reach my hand out to him.  


He takes it, no question.  


I’m holding him tightly when we stop. I’ve never done this without Dad, Yuzu, and Karin before. But he can stand to be exempt from their extravagant behavior. After a short stop to fetch water, we come to a stop in front of a beautiful memorial, the polished stone resistant to weather.   


The name on the headstone is Masaki Kurosaki.  


“Hey, Mom,” I greet gently.   


Ishida turns to me, hand over his mouth. I don’t look at him. I kneel instead, and urge him to kneel beside me. He does, smoothing his hand over his sweater.  


“I want you to meet someone.. pretty special.” I smile at him, and I worry that both of us are going to burst into tears. Him because of the emotion, me because I don’t think my soul is meant to let his weep alone.  


We pass the sponge between us as we clean the headstone. He lights incense sticks for us, and the two of us spend a few moments in prayer.  


“Is it her picture that sits behind the nurse’s station in the clinic?” he asks me. I nod.   


“And behind the dining room table.. and in the living room.. and in my dad’s bedroom. Just wait. He’ll start talking to her soon enough. He had a whole damn conversation with her after you left that first night. Trust me, you’ve barely even seen the tip of the weird-berg.”  


I can tell that he tries to fight his laugh, thinking it inappropriate for the setting. But I urge him on with a chuckle of my own. My mother was always so warm and cheerful.. she’d be upset if nobody did anything but cry for her.  


“She was beautiful. You look just like her.”  


I smirk and shake my head. “Nah. Give me black hair and I look like I sprung from my dad’s chest hair. Yuzu looks more like her. But.. she did curse me with this.” I grab my hair.  


Uryuu shoos my hand away from my head, and strokes my hair down. “Well, I’ll never lose you in a crowd. I happen to find it very attractive.” He toys with one of my ears, and I damn near melt.   


“Yeah, because it’s not on your head. It’s a pain in the ass. I’m always teased, even by patients. I’m always ‘the orange-haired nurse.’” It doesn’t bother me anymore, but I used to beg my dad to get me hair dye. He refused, of course, but it didn’t stop me from trying.  


Uryuu’s face hardens a little bit. “Ichigo.. if it’s not too much to ask.. how did she die?”  


I turn to Ishida and stroke his hair behind his ear. “She was killed in an accident when I was just a kid. Not long after Yuzu and Karin were born.” He nods, eyes locking onto the date on the headstone.  


“Actually, my mother passed away around the same time. She fell ill with cancer, and declined quickly. It destroyed my father.. I think that he died with her.”  


“I've never met your father,” I note. God knows he knows mine.   


“He's a cold man. Ryuuken Ishida, Chief of Medicine at Karakura Hospital. He's always been distant, but he detached completely when my mother died. My grandfather raised me, but when he died, too, I had no other choice but to go back to him.”  


“Is that why you decided to become a doctor?”  


He chuckles and shakes his head. “I didn't have a choice, to be honest. My father told me that the only way he'd pay to send me to college was if I majored in Biology and went to medical school. ‘Put my Ishida intellect to use,’” he scoffs. “If not.. I could work at the yarn shop I worked at through high school and rot there, for all he cared. I didn't want that… so I agreed.” He leans against me. “I wanted to hate it. But I've found that I enjoy it. Very much so.” I lace our fingers together.  


“My dad wanted me to be a doctor, too. But..  mom always told me that it can be the nurses that make the most difference. I didn't care about the money, or the responsibility. I just want to spend as much time helping people as I possibly can.”  


I look fondly at the grave, and he reaches up to my shoulder.  


“May I speak to her in private?” he asks. I nod, albeit reluctantly, and give him a kiss.   


I climb up and walk the grounds a little bit. The years have imprinted a map of the temple into my head. I think about her in ways I haven’t for months. I think of how much she’d love Ishida, how much the girls would look up to her, how different I would be if she hadn’t died. I’d probably nicer, more outgoing. But would I have the same friends? The same soulmate?   


When he finds me, he’s still wiping tears from his face. It’s on my tongue to ask him what he’d said, but I know better. Besides, it was probably sappy and embarrassing.   


My mom _really_ would have liked him.  


The weather isn’t bad, so the two of us take a walk to a nearby park. It’s there we decide to eat lunch, sprawled out on a blanket I had brought with us. I sit with him between my legs, each of us munching on the fruit, pasta, and rice balls that he and Yuzu had prepared.  


“What did you think I looked like?” I ask him, leaning back on my hand.  


He raised an eyebrow. “Orange hair, brown eyes, permanent scowl, ridiculous Cookie Monster scrubs?”  


I snort. “No, I mean, before we met. You said you had fantasies. What were they like?”  


He blushes and becomes flustered. “Well… I always knew you were a man,” he admits. “I never connected the letter on my wrist to a girl.”   


I mess up his hair. “Are you sure you're not just gay?”  


He swats my hand away. “That's not it. I just… I knew you were male. Sexuality wasn’t relevant. I didn’t want anyone who wasn’t my soulmate.”  


I roll my eyes. “Okay. Other than thinking about my dick--” He protests, pinching my side. “--What did you think I’d be like?”  


He takes a moment to think. “I thought.. tall, dark hair. I don’t know. I didn’t really.. see a face.” He shrugs. “What about you? Did you think I was a girl?” he asks, bemused.  


I laugh. “Nah. I never really paid a lot of attention to that kind of thing. Too much on my mind. I only started dating Orihime because she asked me to.” I steal one of his grapes.  


He’s quiet for a few minutes, moving so that his back is pressed against my chest. My fingers find his scalp and he sighs, letting his head loll against my shoulder.  


“...What are we?” he asks.  


“...Soulmates?” I offer. He reaches back and whaps me on the chest, just hard enough to get my attention.   


“Are we dating?” he asks quietly. I take his hand and hold it for a moment.   


“...Well, yeah. I don’t spend so damn much time kissing you for my health,” I tell him, but that’s only partially true. Being near him quiets my soul. It’s a calm, serene feeling. Anxiety melts away and any bad mood dissipates. When we’re apart for long periods of time, I can feel myself become cranky. Well, crankier than normal. What has this boy done to me?  


He turns awkwardly in my arms, and he gives me a kiss, deep and perfect enough to settle my spirit. I hold his cheek as we part, and he moves to separate himself from me, packing up the scarce remainders of our lunch.  


“Come on, lover,” he teases, beckoning me forward with a finger.

 

* * *

  _Renji’s Point of View_

Byakuya has to go back home today, and I really think I’m going to cry. I’m not a crier. But the thought of that radiant man of mine sleeping alone is worse than any pain I’ve ever experienced. It doesn’t seem to bother him, but then again, he doesn’t tend to show weakness. Just take the other night, for instance. He’d been fuming. Absolutely pissed. His sister-- his only living, immediate family member-- was being screwed over. And not just that, but the man had insulted him and his late wife. But he kept himself composed until we were in the safety of my car.  


“I knew what I was getting into when I married her,” he had snarled at me as we buckled our seatbelts.  


“I know, babe,” I assured him, rubbing his thigh. “You don’t gotta explain yourself to me.”  


It isn’t until the next morning that he’s calm, no longer sending my heart into angry palpitations or making my stomach clench in rage.  


And he has to fucking leave.  


“Why?” I whine, lying back in the bed.  


“Because I have filming in Seireitei,” he explains. “It’ll only be a week. You’ll manage.”  


“Doesn’t feel like it,” I mutter. His hand lays over my belly and he lies beside me. I’m given a kiss and he takes a moment to lie beside me.  


I’m a depressed mess after dropping him off at the train station. I don’t know what to do with myself for a week! Going back to being alone in my apartment sounds.. wrong.  


‘Come over,’ I text Rukia, complete with about six lines of sad emojis.  


‘You’ll live. I can’t, I’m sick.’  


I make a face at my phone. ‘Why not call your ~lover~ to come take care of you?’  


‘Hahaha, go fuck yourself.’  


Well, that’s a bust. I decide to FaceTime Inoue, hoping that we can be sad and soulmate-less together.  


“Oh! Hi, Renji!” she chirps. “What’s up?”

I put my head down on the table, holding up my phone. “Byakuya had to go back home for a while.”  


“Aww! That sucks,” she pouts, and gets up from her seat on the couch. She turns to go to the kitchen, and I damn near scream.  


“Inoue.. don’t be alarmed. There’s a weird guy on your floor.”  


She turns quickly, but laughs. “Oh, that’s just Grimmjow!” She turns the camera, and I’m faced with a blue-haired man, in nothin g but lounge pants, smoking a cigarette and sipping on what looks to be Scotch on the Rocks. He’s playing some overly-violent XBOX game, legs crossed and back hunched.

I stare, dumbfounded. “Who the hell is he?”  


“Oh, that’s my soulmate!” She smiles wide, then turns the camera back to him. “Say hi!”  


Middle finger.  


Awesome.  


“He’s just shy,” she assures me. “Well. He wasn’t shy with  me ..” She winks.  


“I’m gonna go throw up,” I grin artificially, and hang up the call. I groan and rub my face. Well, that sucks.  


Shit.  


I didn’t want to have to do this.  


* * *

 Rose’s house is nicer than I expect. There’s a garden outside, low-lying fences lining the walkway. I see a new Honda Civic parked beside Izuru’s old Subaru Impreza. I kick gravel lazily as I approach and knock on the door, my soul feeling the weight of my soulmate’s absence. 

“Thanks for this,” I mumble to them as they welcome me into the house. There’s a backpack filled with nightly essentials on my back.   


“Quite alright,” Rose assures, leading me further into the house. He takes me to a bedroom and turns on the light, and the creepy, sterile whiteness nearly burns my eyeballs out of the sockets.  


“Why’s it so.. white?” I ask. “There’s no color in here whatsoever.”  


Rose smiles. “We’ve discussed it, and we both would like to adopt children when Izuru is through with school, if not sooner. The spare bedrooms are all white, so that they may have a creative outlet and control over their environment.” He runs his fingers over the walls. “It won’t be blank for too much longer.”  


I can’t help but shudder. Really, I don’t see myself and Byakuya choosing to become parents. We’d be the cool uncles, maybe, taking our friends’ kids to see R-rated movies or help them out with situations they’re too embarrassed to bring to their parents.  


Aw. We’re gonna have to give a lot of sex talks.   


I snap toward them. “Wait, you’re already talking about kids? Aren’t you moving a little fast?”  


Izuru shakes his head. “We already know that we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together. And considering that Rose is so accomplished and settled into his career.. it doesn’t scare me as much as it would otherwise. If he wasn’t so much older than me, I’d never consider it.”  


I raise an eyebrow. “How old is he?”  


“Thirty-one.”  


My eyebrows shoot into my forehead. He’s near Byakuya’s age. If you’re counting, that’s an eleven year age difference.   


I can see it, I suppose..

 

* * *

 

_Ichigo’s Point of View_   
  


Yuzu and Karin are understandably upset that we went to visit Mom without them. We always go on the anniversary of her death, but it’s rare that we go randomly. But if Ishida is going to be part of the family, I didn’t want to make him wait a year to learn about my mother. He was bound to ask, and it wasn’t fair to leave him in the dark so long.  


“Is your mother alive?” Yuzu asks quietly, concentrating on the stitch she’s making.   


He shakes his head. “No. She died in September, in the same year that your mother passed away.” He pulls up a picture on his phone. It’s a picture of his parents, presumably. There’s a cute young woman joyfully holding a baby, with a stern, but soft-faced white haired man behind her.   


I smack my forehead. “Duh! I’ve seen him before.” I point at the picture of his father. “I did my clinicals at Karakura Hospital, and we partner with them. Dad’s got surgical privileges there.” I look him over. “You’re a dead ringer for him, aren’t you?”

He groans. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” Karin points out. “You’ve just got her hair and eyes. You’ve even got his Resting Bitch Face.”  


“Karin,” I snap, scolding her sharply. He touches my arm.  


“She’s nearly fourteen, she can curse,” he chuckles. “And she’s right. I resemble Ryuken Ishida more than  I care to admit.” He puts his phone away. “We couldn’t even sneak me through to do my rotations at the hospital because it’s so plain that he was responsible for my creation.” 

He gets tired earlier than usual, and I take him to bed. Something’s different this time, though. He seems almost nervous as he lies down beside me, snuggling up to my side. I lean down and kiss him, and don’t know what to do when he moves to crawl on top of me, deepening our kiss and rubbing my chest.  


“You okay?” I pant as we part. I stroke his hair out of his eyes.  


He nods. “Yeah. I’m okay.” He kisses me again and I’m breathless, his hands trailing up my stomach. He’s making the sweetest noises, deepening our kiss and slipping his hands up my shirt.  


Wait..  


I end the kiss gently, and take his hands. “You’re awfully enthusiastic tonight,” I note. I’m trying really hard not to bring attention to the growing bulge in my pants. He’s just being needy and affectionate because of the emotional day we’ve had, right? I’ll take care of my erection in the bathroom, after he falls asleep.  


He looks flustered. I don’t think he was expecting me to call him out. “I was hoping we could..”  


I blink in realization. “You wanna have sex?”  


Ishida rolls onto his back and groans in frustration and embarrassment. “Just forget it,” he mourns, taking his glasses off and damn near throwing them onto the bedside table. He rubs his eyes, and I take his wrists.   


“Hey,” I say softly, stroking his cheek.  


“Just forget it,” he repeats. “It’s stupid.”  


I shut him up with a kiss, letting my hand support his head while I bring him up to sit in my lap. I know that he can feel my erection, and his tongue slows when he realizes.   


“Definitely not stupid,” I grin up at him, and he gasps as I roll my hips into his.  


I’ve thought about this, of course. Dozens of times. He’s a very attractive young man.. a very attractive young man who snuggles against me when I sleep. It’s not hard to imagine rolling over on top of him, kissing him into a pile of mush, slipping my hands into his pants..   


But the reality that this is  actually going to happen is way better than any of my fantasies. I press my lips to the center of his collarbone and he hums, letting his head drop back. I try to tug his shirt off before I realize that it’s a button-up. Of course it is. Why not make it difficult? We work together to get it open, but I’m ready to rip it and send buttons flying. Patience, Ichigo. Savor it.  


When his shirt is off, I rub my thumbs over his nipples. Though I’ve had sex before, this is so much  different.  Over the years, I’d learned what Orihime had liked, what she didn’t. Uryuu’s body is uncharted territory. Every whimper, moan, and gasp shades in another part of the map.  


He moans for me, and I can’t help my smirk. He moans again and catches himself, hand clasped over his mouth. “Your father and sisters. They’ll hear.”  


I let my hands splay over his sides. “Don’t worry about it. Dad’s downstairs, and they’re at the other end of the hall.” That, and I don’t give a fuck about anyone hearing. His noises go straight to my cock, and I don’t want him to feel like he has to hold anything back.  


We move so that I’m on top of him. My knee is between his legs, and he’s holding onto my back like I’d fly away if he simply breathed too hard. I suck on each nipple, gentle and thorough, and he is beginning to fidget. I chuckle and let go, kissing indulgently at the sensitive skin of his stomach. I’m ready to yank his pants down, but he stops me with a hand in my hair.

“Wait, Ichigo.”   


We sit up and he straddles my lap. He gets my shirt off, and his curious hands are everywhere. I’m not as vocal as he is, but I decide to give him feedback, lest he think that I don’t like what he’s doing. He licks each nipple before drawing one into his mouth. He looks up at me for confirmation, and his gaze alone is enough to make my cock jump.   


I hiss as I feel my pants being pulled down. I don’t typically wear underwear to bed, so he’s greeted by the full glory of my erection. He bites his lip as I kick my lounge pants off of the bed. He settles between my legs, and I know what he’s planning to do. But first..  


“Ishida,” I breathe. “Is this your first time?”   


I already know the answer. I knew when I kissed him for the first time. He’s a total virgin. Virgins always want that sweet, romantic sex. More experienced lovers, in my experience, are more likely to speed through. Honestly, I’m kind of surprised that there aren’t any candles and rose petals.   


He nods.  


I shift so I can kiss him. “I just.. we can stop. Any time. If you need to.. we can stop.”  


That seems to give him reassurance, and he re-settles between my legs. Gingerly, he takes my cock into his hand, and the contact alone is enough to make me sigh in pleasure. He takes his time gathering up the nerve. I stroke his hair lovingly, and that’s all the encouragement he needs. His tongue glides against the head and I hum. Finding the taste to be to his liking, he takes the head into his mouth, bobbing further and further down the shaft.  


It feels like heaven, but I can only take so much of it.  


“Stop,” I grit out, stroking his cheek. He does so, instantly, but looks confused and a little bit hurt. “I was gonna come.”  


He wipes his mouth. “Then shouldn’t I..?” He lets his fingers ghost over my cock.  


“No,” I moan, and scramble to his level, pulling him into a kiss. “There’s something I want to do instead.”  


Right. His eyes widen in realization.  


“Do you want to, Uryuu?”  


He diverts his gaze and bites his lip. But he nods enthusiastically, eyes squeezed shut.   


I know how to do this. Every human being is born knowing how to fuck. But this feels different. This is so much more delicate than sex with Orihime had been. Not that I'm rough, mind you. But he's so nervous, so fragile-looking that I think anything less than pure pleasure will break him. I watch his face as we rid each other of any remaining clothing. His beautiful, pale cheeks are flushed, his lips swollen and parted. I have enough common sense to open my bedside drawer and retrieve a condom and the lubricant I use to jerk off with.  


Hey, don't give me that look.   


“I'm glad you're as vigilant against unplanned pregnancy as I am,” he snorts, and I look down. Huh. I guess he’s right. There’s no risk of pregnancy, and I know that we don’t have anything else to worry about.. so I toss it aside. Remembering some conversation with Renji that I’d tried to block from my memory, I lay him gently on his back, head on the pillows. I coat my fingers in lubricant and urge him to open his legs. He does so slowly.  


I can tell he’s still reluctant. So I reach out and, with my dry hand, take his. His eyes meet mine and I give him a smile and a playful wink. That seems to soothe him, and he gives me a kiss before nodding. Gently, I slip a finger inside, not too deep. He sighs out and relaxes a little bit, and I press it all the way in. I finger him until he’s curling his toes and writhing beneath me, ending up with two fingers inside.   


“Do it,” he gasps.  


“You mean..?”  


Ishida nods. “Yeah.”  


Well, that settles that. I withdraw my fingers slowly, and wipe them on the sheet. I hiss as I smooth a newly lube-coated hand over my cock. After a couple of moments, my attention is back on my beautiful, needy soulmate. Fuck, how sappy does that sound? But I can admit it. He’s my soulmate, and I love him.  


I love him.  


I press our noses together as I press inside, too distracted to kiss him. He’s tight as hell, and already making noises that put me close to the edge. I shake it off for the time being-- no way we’re through yet. I’m still for a little while, looking over his face, petting his hair. I’m still until his hips begin to sway, and he is wiggling beneath me. I give a tentative thrust, and he makes the most arousing sound I’ve ever heard in my life.   


Before long, I’m pounding into him, the two of us both gasping for breath. Ishida’s nails are rough on my back, but the pain doesn’t even register. I feel myself nearing the finish line, and reach down to stroke him. Once, twice, again, again, and he’s spilling himself between us. I snarl and redouble my efforts, and end up coming inside of him with enough intensity to darken my vision.  


When we both come down from our highs, I flop on top of him with a groan. I snuggle into him, though I know that I won’t be allowed to stay there for long. When he’s had enough of my weight, I pull out gently and turn him onto his side so that we can spoon. I can tell he’s not wholly comfortable, probably feeling the intense desire to get up and shower, but there’s no way in hell that either of us can muster the energy to move.   


Our gazes meet like water converging with earth, and he smiles back at me.  


“I love you,” I say to him, giving him a peck on the lips.   


Shit. Should I have said that? Soulmates or not, it’s been a week. A  week . Usually ‘I love yous’ come after a few months.   


But that doesn’t seem to disturb him. He turns in my arms, head settling under my chin and limbs tangling.  


“I love you, too.”  


Cleaning up is a concept long-forgotten. After a long, drawn-out, lazy kiss, he falls asleep. My body wants to join him, but my mind is too excited to shut down, preoccupied with the fantasies of the life I’m going to share with this blue-eyed pain in the ass.


	7. Love's Not Easy

Six months pass in the blink of an eye. After a terribly short two weeks, my lover no longer walked to work with me, his hand in mine. Instead, I kiss him at the door and wait pitifully for him to come home. I get it. He's a medical student, in the middle of his education. He needs to be well-rounded, even if my father has made the bold declaration that Uryuu Ishida is going to become a Family Practitioner and work at the Kurosaki Clinic with his future husband and father-in-law.

Uh huh.

"I think being a surgeon would be nice," Uryuu admits to me one night. I'm petting his hair, letting the strands fall between my fingers. "I just don't want your father to be upset with me, or think that I'm not grateful."

"Don't let my dad pressure you," I insist, rubbing his back with my free hand. "He just wants you in the family. And with him, that means trying to keep you in the clinic. But.. don't worry about it. If you're happy, he'll be happy, and so will I." I grin. "Unless you become a Dermatologist, then you're dead to him."

He laughs into my neck. "You know how badly I wanted to earn hundreds of thousands of dollars a day treating acne and wrinkles." He rolls his eyes. No, he needs a faster pace than that.

Sex quickly becomes a part of our nightly ritual. It's just as important as eating dinner, taking a shower, brushing our teeth. It's our time to devote to  _us,_ to the relationship, to each other. No excuses. There are nights where we have our teeth at each other's throats, screaming and spitting venom over insignificant bullshit. But there isn't a night that we can bare to sleep apart. The kisses soothe the tears, trembling lips, red-hot scowls. We apologize with pleasure. Whatever we're fighting about seems so insignificant. Why snarl and posture when I can strip the clothing off of this tempestuous beauty? Why make him scream in frustration when it's so much sweeter to make him scream in ecstasy?

It doesn't matter how we do it. There are some nights where we're so feverish that we're lucky if I manage to yank myself out of my jeans, and his slacks are around his thighs. The next night, he'll come to me, loving and needy, wanting to be made love to slow and gentle. On weekends, however, those angelic blue eyes turn mischievous. He is flirty and seductive, drawing out his teasing throughout the day. It's a game- 'how long can Ichigo Kurosaki stand my torment until he grabs me by the arm, takes me somewhere private, and fucks my tongue loose?'

The answer is always 'not very long.'

No matter how we do it, the end result is the same. He's curled up beside me at the end of each night, back to my chest, snoring lightly. To anyone else, the noise would be annoying.. but I find it endearing. I can't fall asleep before him, because my body seems to be trained to respond to that noise.

I love him. Honest.

* * *

_Renji's Point of View_

Having a famous movie star as your lover both rocks and blows major dick. And not in the good way.

My living situation has improved tremendously. Remember that mediocre apartment I had? Yeah, fuck that place. We bought a house a little ways away from town- he prefers the tranquility. I do, too, honestly, but I miss being able to walk to Taco Bell. We own acres of property, most of it fenced and gardened. Five bedrooms, four bathrooms. And for now, I have them all to myself. No man should have this much power. I have one bathroom for every necessary bathroom activity. One for brushing my teeth. One for showering. One for peeing. One for playing Pokemon, pantsless on the toilet under the guise of pooping. In that regard, it's awesome.

But I miss him. My soul misses his. I miss the way his hair smells, the way his lips taste, the way his skin feels. I miss his smile, his scowl, his angelic sleeping face. He is going to come back. that's a given. This is his house. He sold his place in Seireitei, living in a barely-furnished studio apartment he'd previously purchased for Rukia. It's not luxury, but despite his looks, he doesn't need luxury.

We bridge the gap by Skyping every damn night. He's exhausted, and so am I, but neither of us mind. We don't need to say anything. There are some nights where we just share our 'I love yous' and pass out. But there are others where we talk for hours, until our throats are sore. One thing is always the same- we don't hang up the call until the morning, when both of us are up. I get to watch him sleep. I get to see his lazy stretches and groans when his alarm goes off. It's so damn precious to me, sharing the little things with him. With men as beautiful as Byakuya, it's easy to forget that they do mundane shit, too. Byakuya brushes his hair, blows his nose, does that weird little snort thing in his sleep. And I get to see it.

I know what you're gonna ask. Yeah, we get a little frisky. Nothing wrong with that, right? And it keeps me from immediately dragging him into the bed on the sporadic visit. Well, sure, it only buys five minutes, but hey, it's something.

Oh! Duh!

I'm not always alone. Rukia stays with me sometimes, when she has nothing better to do. She even brings Kaien sometimes. Our relationship with the man has eased somewhat. Byakuya's not in love with him, but he's not here. The guy's good at Mario Kart. Well, not better than me, but good enough to be challenging. I've noticed that, while not particularly romantic, Kaien and Rukia are proving to be good friends. And that's the weird thing with this whole.. soulmates deal. Some of us are head over heels in love, while others experience a more platonic love. Others still are compatible sexually, but aren't 'in love' in the traditional sense. It's hard to know what you're going to get. I'm just glad she's happy, you know?

Dinner time rolls around, and I've been in the kitchen for a while, trying to figure out what to cook. If Byakuya were home, I'd make something light and healthy.. but since it's Rukia and Kaien…

"Hey!" I call, making my way down the hall. There are four delivery menus in my hand. Do we want pizza? Thai? Sandwiches? Other pizza? Without so much as a knock, I barge into Rukia's room.

"Can you guys help me pi- woah, woah, the fuck is this?"

I stare at them. Kaien looks like he was in the middle of a mental breakdown before I walked my happy ass in there. Rukia looks near tears, but she's redirected her emotions into anger toward me.

"Get the fuck out of here," she snarls. I don't back down.

"...What's that?" I point at the plastic stick she's holding.

She hides it behind her back. Oh, hell no. I run up and take it from her easily- I'm a hell of a lot faster than she is. I look at it, rolled on my back, trying to interpret the information.

"Wait."

"Yeah."

" _Wait_."

" _Yes_ , Renji."

I sit up. "...You sure this is right? Two lines is positive?"

"Yes." She's exasperated at this point. Kaien is just sitting there, head hanging between his legs.

I stand up. "These come in a two pack, right?" She nods. "Did you take the other?" She shakes her head. I see the package in the bathroom- ew, that's my tooth brushing bathroom. I grab the package and shake out the extra test.

And I take a pregnancy test. It's far more complicated than I had been led to believe. It was totally possible that she'd just fucked it up. I open the door triumphantly, and sit my pending pregnancy test down on the bedside table beside hers.

"Now, we wait."

She gives me a blank expression. "What the hell is the point of this?"

I shrug. "If mine comes out positive, we'll know they're rigged. Which it's gotta be, or you'rethe host of the immaculate conception." I slap my thighs. "Alright. I'm gonna go order pizza. Kaien, want a beer?"

No answer.

I shrug. More for me.

I come back a few minutes later and grab my test off the table.

"...What the fuck is this?" I demand, shoving the pregnancy test in Rukia's face. Kaien looks over.

"...That's Rukia's. Yours turned negative about five seconds in, numbnuts." He reassumes his kiss-your-ass-goodbye position.

"Oh. Hey, you're still here?" I sit beside Rukia and take a swig of my beer. "Cool. Who's the dad?"

I'm accosted by angry glowering. I pause, bottle by my lips. "What?"

"Kaien's the father."

I'm dumbstruck. I shake my free hand. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait. You two aren't even, like, a thing," I insist. "Well, I mean, you're marked, but you decided not to be a couple, right?" My hand is on my forehead at this point. "When the fuck did you- you know, fuck?"

She smacks my chest. "That doesn't matter. We just  _did_." She looks me dead in the eye. "You cannot tell my brother about this."

My jaw drops. "You weigh twelve pounds, how the fuck do you expect to hide a freakin' spiral ham under your shirt?"

She swats at me. I'm getting a lot of abuse for this. "Not until we know what we're gonna do. I texted Ichigo. I'm going by the clinic tomorrow to see his dad."

That, I don't press. Still. Not saying anything to Byakuya is going to kill me. Those stony eyes can break me down in seconds.

Later that night, after he's wandered off like a zombie and she's asleep, I see Byakuya sign on to Skype. I make the call, nervous as hell. I have to, or he'll know something's up.

"Renji," he greets with a smile. I melt every goddamn time. They're so rare, it's like those smiles are just for me, and nobody else is worthy of seeing his pleasant mood. I can't help but smile back.

"Hey, baby." My voice is soft, and I Iean my head on my hand.

"What's wrong?"

Shit.

"Oh, just tired," I lie. His eyes narrow. Even over video chat, he knows I'm lying.

Fuck.

"Renji," he warns.

"Rukia's pregnant, Kaien's the father," I blurt. I clasp my hand over my mouth.

I don't get to have a peaceful, romantic Skype date with my boyfriend. No. I got to pick him up at the train station with barely enough time to spare to throw my hair into a ponytail. I'm surprised he's not on fire by the time he arrives. He won't even give me a hug or a kiss. It's been.. four months since I've held him, and he's so angry that he can't even hold my hand. I'm glad I can see his point of view, or I'd be awfully bitter right now.

I'm barely able to convince Byakuya to let Rukia sleep. If he wakes her up, they won't get anything accomplished. There will only be yelling and tears.

Trust me, that's a lesson I can teach others, but not myself. I'm an impulsive little shit, but he brings me clarity.

Now, I have to return the favor.

"Let's go to bed, baby. It's two in the morning."

That seems to appease him. When we're in our bedroom, it seems to all come back to him. This is  _our_  bedroom. We're together for the first time in months. And he'd swatted my hand away when I'd tried to hold his.

He makes it up to me by stripping naked in the dark of our bedroom. We're both far too tired and emotional to have sex, but I strip down, too, and we curl up with one another. I wrap myself around him, and the relief my soul feels, being in such intimate contact with his, makes me want to cry. I know he feels the same, because of the way his heavy sigh shakes.

"Hey." I get his attention with the rub of a hip. "I love you."

He normally smiles, too shy, too proud, too something to say it back, but the sentiment is there. It's enough for me.

This time, Byakuya rolls and kisses me. "I love you, too."

* * *

Rukia is understandably furious when she wakes up and Byakuya is sipping tea and eating an English muffin at the kitchen island. That anger is short-lived, however, when he takes her into his arm. She finally breaks, clutching his- well, my shirt- and sobbing into it. He's silent, stroking her hair and letting her cry. His anger melts like snow in the summer, and worry for his baby sister overwhelms him.

Ichigo had signed us up for the last appointment of the day. We're ushered in quickly and quietly, surely because Byakuya's there.

Orihime is sitting at the computer in the room, serving as a female presence for Rukia's peace of mind. Ichigo is… doing whatever the fuck nurses do. Uryuu is seated on a rolling stool by Ichigo's dad, observing his every move. Byakuya and I are on either side of her, rubbing her shoulders.

When the ultrasound starts, Dr. Kurosaki is vocal. He's acting like he's simply showing Uryuu landmarks, but I really think he's trying to keep us clued in.

"Alright, Dr. Ishida," Dr. Kurosaki beams. "What do you see?"

Uryuu is quiet. "Yolk sac." He points at the screen. "Embryo." He slides his finger over. "You are most definitely pregnant, Ms. Kuchiki."

Rukia cries. Ichigo can't take hearing one of his best friends cry, so he excuses himself. I do my best to comfort her, and Byakuya is whispering calming words into her ear. It doesn't appear it's working.

"About.. eight weeks along," Dr. Kurosaki nods. "Healthy little thing, looks like!" He comforts her with a pat of the foot. "Let's clean you up. Nurse Ichigo's just printing off some educational documents. Come on, boys. Let's give everyone a Coke. I can't have people passing out on me."

* * *

Rukia comes to me that night, when Byakuya is meditating in the moonlit garden. She lies beside me on the bed that I share with her brother, and I shut the lid of my laptop.

"Where was he today?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I didn't invite him. I didn't want him there. It would have been too complicated."

I blink. "I don't think I understand."

"That's how we found out that it might be better to stay friends," she says meekly. "It just.. happened one day. He loves his wife. He does. And our.. encounter settled the fact that we think that we'd just.. be better as platonic soulmates." She shrugged. "And I'm worried that, if his wife finds out, she's going to flip her lid."

"I mean, I'd freak the hell out if Byakuya got a woman pregnant. I don't see that happening, but.. I'd freak out more if I bumped into a lady on the street that has a kid who looks just like him."

Rukia's expression darkens. "I'm.. not keeping the baby."

I lean forward. "What?" I look away, then look at her. "Do you mean you're going to…?"

"No," she shakes her head. "I'm going to carry the baby to term. Dr. Kurosaki isn't able to do abortions at the clinic, and frankly, I don't trust anyone else yet. I'm going to give the baby up for adoption."

Rukia seemed adamant, but I have my reservations. "You've gotta involve him in this," I insist. "You've gotta make sure he knows. And you've gotta give more than a day's thought." I know her. She'll get attached.

She looks away. "Maybe you're right. This is just all so.. messed up, unfortunate.."

"Fucked up," I offer. "Rukia. This fucking  _blows_. You got a shit deal out of this. But you can play a shitty hand. That much, I know." We fist bump. "Go to bed. Think of how you're gonna tell Kaien. We'll support you, but I don't wanna see you do something you'll regret. Especially something like this."

This situation keeps Byakuya and I up all night. Even a particularly thorough roll in the sack isn't enough to knock us out. I'm staring up at the ceiling when Ifeel a hand and a cheek against my chest.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks me, grey eyes bright in the dark. I don't even move.

"We should adopt that baby."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, what's gonna happen? Is Rukia going to work it out with Kaien? Are Byakuya and Renji going to adopt the baby? But Rose and Izuru already have plans to have children! Stay tuned, it's picking up! :D


	8. Love Hurts Like a Bitch

He is staring at me as if I've grown a new head. What? It's the logical step. Rukia is my best friend, and she's Byakuya's sister. If we adopt the kid, it'll be allowed to keep contact with its family. 'It.' That's so… impersonal, isn't it? Like the kid's a puppy whose owner is considering taking it to the pound.

No.

Shut up, Renji.

Byakuya takes a moment to choose his next words carefully.

"No."

Okay, that's not the reaction I'd been expecting. I really thought that he was going to go for it. Family is one of his top priorities. He'd give his hair and his power(I'm pretty sure they're one in the same) for Rukia. Nobody knows it like I do. There was a time where she was my everything- my only friend, the only person in this world that I gave a shit about, and gave a shit about him. Then I met him, of course, and I'm really fucking glad that we have that in common.

But… no?

"Renji. You know what I do for a living." He takes my cheek in his hand and turns my face toward his. "That child would not be ours. He or she would be yours."

I blink.

"I cannot, in good faith, let you take that responsibility alone. It would be unfair to all of us." He leans forward and kisses me. "You want to lift the torment from Rukia's heart, as I do. But that is not the way that we would best accomplish that."

We lie down together, and I think about what he said, my arms wrapped around his bony waist. It's sound logic. Yeah, I'm kind of pissed, but not at him. We're fucking helpless. There's no way for us to make this better. Not that Rukia's situation could really be worsened at this point. Some of us have had it really easy- God, just look at Rose and Izuru. Those assholes walked straight out of some cheesy, sappy romance. Kurosaki and Ishida are the embodiment of a romcom plot. And me and Byakuya? We're just awesome.

We're not allowed to tell anyone who doesn't already know. Kurosaki and Ishida know, and that fucker Shiba knows. I mean, it won't be a secret forever. God knows that she'll be showing once the little dude or dudette grows beyond the size of a blueberry. But for now, it's best that it not get spread around. The last thing she needs is for someone to congratulate her. She'd probably burst into tears at this point.

Business continues as normal for the next few weeks. My lover leaves for a week, but he returns to me with an.. unexpected request.

"You want me to do  _what_?" I ask, jaw dropped.

"I want a tattoo," he says plainly.

Well, I'm not going to fight him, I guess. He's a grown-ass man. I'm definitely taken aback, though. Won't that cause trouble with his job?

But it won't, he assures me as he opens his shirt and lays himself down in the chair. I swallow thickly as he slides his pants down his thighs. He rolls onto his stomach and stretches so I have full access to the back I've seen arched below me a dozen times by now. I smooth my hand from his back to his thigh, some convoluted massage.

"Do you know what kinda design you want?" I ask, clearing my throat.

He gathers his hair and pulls it away from his shoulder. "I trust you."

That's probably the sexiest thing I've ever heard him say.

No, you don't get it. That  _is_ the sexiest thing I've ever heard him say. And he's whispered some pretty heavy shit to me. I had the shittiest upbringing imaginable. I've eaten food out of dumpsters, sipped on rainwater, cycled through the worst kinds of foster care Hell you can think of.. but here's my beautiful, uptown soulmate putting his body in my hands. It's too precious of a gesture for my heart to handle.

I spend an hour or more just doodling on him. Sketching designs, erasing some, expanding on others. I owe this to him. I can't put anything less than my best work on this beautiful soulmate of mine. When it's finally time, I settle on covering his left side in cherry blossoms, petals fluttering down the outside of his thigh. I hide my name in the bark of the tree- that's our little secret, okay? But this way, no matter how long he's gone, he'll have that reminder of me every time he strips down to shower or change costumes.

When we close the shop for the night, I watch him limp just ahead of me. He's sore, and for once, he doesn't seem to be embarrassed by it.

* * *

Our weekly meetings are the only things keeping all of us sane. We need an even bigger table now, and we're pretty sure that the restaurant staff hates us. I can see them Along with the original four, we're joined by Rose, Ishida, Byakuya, Orihime, and her… companion of some sort? I don't think that they're necessarily  _dating_.

No Kaien.

Fucking good.

I sit next to Kurosaki, who is sharing some kind of ale with his lover. They're sickeningly sweet, y'know, almost as bad as Rose and Izuru. Ishida just licked the foam off of Kurosaki's lip, for Christ's sake. I'm not even that deep in. But if Byakuya had some pudding on his lip…

Rose and Byakuya greet each other kindly. I guess they're becoming friends? That surprises me none, though I guess that it should. Byakuya gets a bad rap for being a snob. In reality, he's fairly awkward and, frankly, kind of hilarious. And a snob, but, hey. Win some, lose some. I'm glad to see him relaxing into the group.

Rukia orders a virgin Pina Colada, which gets some looks from Izuru and Grimmjow. That's his name, right?

"Oh, that's right!" Grimmjow drawls, and those of us who know Rukia's situation clench our jaws and shake our heads at him. "May your first child be a masculine child," he shrugs, hissing after his shot of… whatever the fuck kind of antifreeze he was drinking.

Rukia squeaks.

"You're pregnant?" Izuru asks, hands on the table. "And you didn't even tell us?"

Rose puts a hand over Izuru's. "I don't think it's good news, Muse of Mine," he whispers to him, rubbing his back gently. He turns to Rukia. "Am I correct?"

She nods.

"Then we should move on. There's no need to talk about it. Unless, of course, you'd like to?"

Rukia looks around the circle. She looks so small, almost disappearing between Kurosaki and myself. "I suppose we should get the details out of the way." She steels herself. "Kaien is the father. No, his wife does not know yet. I am not having an abortion, but the child will be given up for adoption."

"Have you found some poor asshole to take the kid?" Grimmjow slurs.

Rukia opens her mouth, but it's Kurosaki who answers.

"We will. We want to adopt the kid."

* * *

_Ichigo's Point of View_

Okay, okay. I know I fucked up. But does that really constitute being dragged to the bathroom by the ear? Ishida is furious by the time we make it to the suspiciously clean restroom. He locks the door and I'd think this was the start of a porn movie if he didn't look like he wants to scalp me.

"What were you  _thinking_?" he cries. "You've only had a sip of beer, you can't be drunk already! Ichigo, we are in  _no position_ to take on a child! And saying that to Rukia as teasing- that's plain cruel!"

I put my hand on his hip, trying to calm him down and get him to listen to reason. "I wasn't teasing her. I was being serious." He opens his mouth, but I stroke his cheek. "We are financially stable and of a respectable age. I'm twenty-six. I don't want to be the daddy who can't keep up with his kid." I stroke his hair.

"...Do you really want children?" he asks quietly.

I don't hesitate. "Yes." I nod. "I haven't brought it up because our relationship is still in its infancy. But I have never wanted anything more than to have a big family. Being a father is in my destiny. I can feel it. Besides.. the kid's my blood, too. Kaien's my cousin, and the genes run strong. This kid is gonna be undeniably Shiba-Kurosaki spawn. And Rukia's my best friend. I know she doesn't want a stranger to have her kid."

Uryuu sighs and reaches out, placing his hand over my heart. "Your heart is too big," he teases. "But that's the thing, Ichigo. Our relationship is in its infancy. We're not ready. I'm still in school, even."

I smirk. "If you wait until you're ready, it'll never happen." I step close enough to wrap both arms around his waist. He's calm now, but I can see the hesitance in his eyes. "Dad'll help. Yuzu will help. Karin… I'm sure she can be convinced. And that's just the family. This wouldn't be something we'd have to do alone."

He looks up at me with those pretty blue eyes, and I can't help but step closer.

"Let's do it."

The two of us emerge from the bathroom far more placid than when we'd gone in. I'm grinning uncontrollably, and I'm pretty sure the person waiting to go in thinks that we just had sex. We reclaim our seats at the table, and I take a happy sip of my beer.

"What was that about?" Rukia asks.

Ishida turns toward her.

"Rukia, if you will allow it, I'd like to assure you that Ichigo was serious. We would like to adopt your baby."

Rukia looks down at her stomach. "Well, shit. That was easy. One less thing to stress about, I guess?"

* * *

We decide to not tell my father yet. Can you imagine? He's going to lose his shit. He's going to start barking out name suggestions before we even get the full sentence out. We won't be able to keep the secret forever, though. Not when we're covering Rukia's co-pays at the obstetrician's office and turning our bedroom into a nursery.

That's one of the first things we discuss. Moving out is tempting- we'd have our own space, the baby would have a room all of its own. But we wouldn't have the support. We'd spend a lot of time getting to the clinic. We make the decision to stay the first few months, at the very least, with my father. I don't see him protesting. I know my dad. That kid is gonna have a lot of time with his or her grandpa.

You know, Uryuu and I are pretty damn good at keeping secrets. Not only that, but my friends are surprisingly good at keeping quiet, too. I had been most worried about Renji and Grimmjow- but my dad never sees Grimmjow(I won't let him near my sisters, Karin doesn't need to learn any more creative curse words). Renji has been stricken by Fear of Byakuya, and every time I worry he's gonna say something stupid, I can see the very moment that he realizes that his lover will put him on a sex ban.

But right after Rukia's twenty week ultrasound, I can't keep it inside anymore.

"Hey, dad?" I call. We're in the clinic, just about to re-open from our lunch break. Uryuu was excused from clinicals, citing that the doctor he's shadowing on his Psychiatry rotation was 'taking a mental health day.'

Okay, he had said that he was sick, but c'mon. I had to.

"Yes, Nurse Ichigo?" he sings, approaching the nurse's station. Uryuu is sitting next to me, pretending to read an article on the prescription of tricyclic antidepressants.

I say nothing. I just hand him the ultrasound picture. He takes it, sipping on his coffee, and looks it over.

"That's a strong-looking little boy that Ms. Kuchiki is going to have," he nods. "Has she decided what she wants to name the little guy yet?"

I shrug. "Well, Uryuu and I were kind of debating between Masaru and Soujiro. Both sound good with Kurosaki. Masaru for mom, and Soujiro for his grandfather.."

My dad is clearly confused by the segue.

"...This is our baby, dad. Uryuu and I are adopting him the second he's born. We already have approval from Rukia and Kaien, and we're… almost entirely sure that nobody's gonna back out at the last minute." We're terrified of that happening, but Rukia has no fear of changing her mind. She knows how invested we are, and Kaien is too afraid of shattering his marriage.

And my dad lights up. He pins the ultrasound picture up on the cabinet, right next to the picture of my mother. "My baby's having a baby!" he screams, and I'm pretty sure he can be heard in the street.

It's all he can talk about for the next several weeks. He buys clothes, toys, things that I don't think a kid even really needs. He's more amped up than we are. Our anxiety is fierce. Anything could go wrong. His birthparents, though they are our friends and family, could change their minds at any given time. But it's so hard to not be excited when I walk into our bedroom to see Uryuu folding baby clothes on our bed. The little onesies are so small, even in his delicate, deft hands.

Rukia slams through the doors of the clinic one evening, clutching her stomach. I go into panic mode and run over. "What's wrong?" I cry, voice authoritative. "Orihime, get a stretcher. Uryuu! Come here! Where's da-"

"I'm fine," Rukia snaps. "Your kid won't stop kicking me. I thought you might be able to calm him down," she huffs, though I can see the grin.

Uryuu comes running. When he realizes that nothing is on fire, he slows down. Rukia grabs him by the wrist and lays his hand on her stomach. He looks confused as she holds it in place, moving it ever so slightly.

"There."

Uryuu's expression brightens. I smile warmly and lay one hand over his, while the other cups the side of her belly. We count the kicks in our heads, and he leans on my shoulder.

This is perfect.

* * *

_Rukia's Point of View_

There's no denying it anymore. I am a whale. I weigh literally four hundred and twenty thousand pounds. I haven't seen my toes in so long that if it weren't for the aching, I'd doubt that they were even still there.

Work has become somewhat of a challenge. Do you have any idea how hard it is to bake all day when you're roasting, exhausted, and emotional? Decorating wedding cakes sends me into a tearful spiral. Mr. Ukitake is thankfully very understanding. He offered me the opportunity to stay home as my due date closes in, take it easy.. but I see little point. I'll just be bored. I have no decorating to do. That's all on Ichigo and Uryuu. Though, Mr. Ukitake's husband and one of the sous chefs from his restaurant have been stopping by to help with bigger projects, letting me focus more on easy pastries, cupcakes, things of that nature.

Mr. Ukitake leaves early to deliver a cake to an important event. Though I'm thirty-nine goddamn weeks pregnant and a heartbeat from my due date, I don't really mind. He needs to keep on business as usual.

Until I see that he's left me a huge wedding cake to do. By myself. You're lucky you're adorable and pay me well, Mr. Ukitake.

When Renji and Byakuya get my panic text, I'm on the floor by the work table, with cake ingredients sprawled everywhere. I have my arms crossed over my enormous belly, and I'm crying the most frustrated, grumpy tears that I've ever cried.

"The hell happened?" Renji asks, eyes full of alarm.

"I have to bake a cake," I sob.

Renji and Byakuya look at one another. "...You have to bake a cake?" Renji repeats.

I nod and hiccup. "And I can't get up."

"Uh… just.. tell us what to do? And stop crying? Please?"

With their help, I get off of the floor and make my way to a stool. I would help, or at least hover over them, but I've been having the worst fake contractions all day, and I'm exhausted. I watch as the two men tried their damnedest to make a bakery-worthy cake. Thankfully for Renji, Byakuya has more baking experience than he lets on. In fact, Byakuya does the bulk of the work, with Renji serving as comic relief.

"It's a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake," Renji sings, purposefully off-key, grinding on Byakuya from behind while Byakuya rolls fondant. I can tell that my brother is calling upon any deity who is willing to lend an ear, praying for the strength to not strangle the man dry-humping him while he makes a cake.

After the boys do the legwork of actually baking the cakes and laying fondant, I get to decorating. I couldn't have done it without them. Well, Renji was just fucking around for a lot of it. But he makes himself useful with a piping bag, putting that steady hand of his to good use. And I'm serious- there are a lot of things I wouldn't have been able to do without them.

Having this baby is one of them.

Well, it's Ichigo and Uryuu's baby, really. I can't be a single mother, even with the support of my brother and one of my oldest friends. I'm so thankful for Ichigo and Uryuu for lifting almost all of the guilt off of my chest. Some remains. It always will. But these boys have truly helped me turn a shitty situation into something beautiful. I'm giving Kurosaki the chance to start a family. My brother is closer to his lover(after all, Renji just survived grinding on him in public). I don't feel the least bit alone, even though my own soulmate is cozied up to his wife.

I have so many opportunities.

I have so much-

I look down. "Holy shit, did I just piss my pants?"

"...Pretty sure your water just broke, yo."

"...This is the most disgusting day of my life."

"It gets worse."

"Shut the hell up."


	9. It's Worth It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't forget, I promise! For the wait, I'll be giving a last little bonus epilogue chapter! :*

"Okay. So. Labor. Right. Good." Renji is clearly having some kind of mental breakdown. He's not even the one about to push a human being out of him. Byakuya is significantly more calm, but that's deceptive. That man knows how to internalize a panic attack like nobody's business. I don't think I've had the chance to really start panicking yet. It's the calm before the storm. Or, in this case, the calm before the worst pain imaginable.

"Are you having contractions?" he asks me. I look down.

"Yeah."

"How often?"

"...Pretty often."

Okay, so sue me. I just thought they were Braxton-Hicks, and I've been standing for more than six consecutive minutes. I thought that active labor would feel a lot more distinctive. I whimper as I feel pretty much every muscle south of my chest clench. Yeah. More like that. Byakuya tries to keep me moving, but I'm not having it. I wait for the pain to relax, squeezing onto their arms.

"Babe, I'll stay here, I can carry her if I need to. Can you go get the car?" Renji asks Byakuya, holding out his keys. Byakuya nods and jogs out. He sends Rose inside in his stead, fully equipped with his guitar.

"I heard someone's having a baby."

"If you even think about strumming one damn string on that guitar, I'm going to shove it so far up your ass that Izuru will be playing Wonderwall every time he kisses you," I snarl.

I think the point is clear.

Byakuya brings Renji's car right up to the door of the bakery. Huh. I guess Renji really did teach him how to handle a stick shift. Heh. Rose and Byakuya help me into the passenger's seat. I watch Renji's expression change as he realizes he won't be able to climb into the half-backseat.

"Come on," Rose insists. "Ride with me."

Renji runs to the driver's side, opens the door, and gives Byakuya a kiss. "Anything happens, you call me. We'll be right behind you."

"Yeah, okay, but can we go?" I gasp through my contraction. "Wait!" I snarl, and the boys pause. "Renji, go get my hospital bag."

"Will do. Get the fuck out of here!"

Byakuya slams on the gas so hard that the tires spin.

We're halfway to the interstate, ready to go to the hospital, when 'accident ahead!' comes out of Byakuya's phone.

"Hell no," I bark. "I am not giving birth in Renji's Taco Bell wrappers."

Byakuya makes a U-Turn in the middle of the road, and I'm kind of terrified that Renji taught him how to drift. "Kurosaki Clinic it is, then."

I don't even have the thought or energy to text Ichigo or Uryuu. I figure that Renji will have it taken care of. He's a loudmouth. I just concentrate on the radio, breathing as slowly as I can and closing my eyes to my brother's borderline reckless driving.

When we arrive, we waste no time in bursting through the doors. Orihime is at the reception desk, debating something about a video game with Grimmjow. They both look up at us with a little bit of a deer-in-the-headlights look.

"She's in labor," Byakuya announces. "Are you going to move?"

Orihime and Grimmjow both scramble. Grimmjow runs to get someone with half a clue, and Orihime gets me a wheelchair. She zooms me off to one of the better-equipped exam rooms, and they help me onto the table.

It's Ichigo who runs in, wearing scrubs covered in characters from The Simpsons. That doesn't really give him my vote of confidence, but my rational mind realizes that he's a very competent nurse, Bart Simpson scrubs be damned. And his father is a very well-respected doctor.

"Why didn't you go to the hospital?" Ichigo snaps more fiercely than I anticipate.

"Traffic," Byakuya responds, just as forceful.

"My dad is at the hospital," Ichigo curses fairly quietly, grabbing a gown out of the cabinet. "Rukia, can you get changed? We need to figure out how far along you are and if we can move you."

Okay, now I'm beginning to get a little bit scared. Ichigo is a nurse. He's an RN, he has plenty of training.. but he's a nurse. Are nurses trained in labor and delivery? I change nonetheless, turning away from my brother. This is about to go from zero to one hundred really fast, and I want to keep my dignity for as long as I possibly can.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" I hiss to Ichigo.

"No. I really don't." I throw my head against the pillow. At least he's honest. "I've seen my dad deliver a baby here and there, but I didn't do much more than hold the mother's hand. This is out of my pay grade." He washes his hands and pulls on a pair of gloves.

"Tell me that you've called someone with a clue," Byakuya snaps before I can hush him.

Ichigo shoots him a look. "I was texting everyone I could think of with a medical degree within a ten mile radius before I came in." He crouches at the end of the table and pulls my gown up. He takes a moment to try to figure out what he's looking at.

"Rukia, I'm going to have to-"

"Shut up," I groan. "Don't talk about it. Just do it."

I wince and turn toward Byakuya. Well, there goes my dignity. When Ichigo withdraws, he pulls off his gloves and runs to his phone.

"You're really far along," he says lowly. "Come on, dad. Pick up your phone," he snarls, bringing the device to his ear.

Like an angel sent from heaven, Uryuu throws the door open, wearing a crisply ironed shirt and tie, hospital badge still clipped to his waist. The bright red 'MEDICAL STUDENT' printed on the bottom of his badge was never so comforting.

Uryuu's Point of View

There's a first time for everything. Ichigo sending me a panicked string of texts including 'Quick, Rukia's in labor, bring fire extinguisher' is one such experience. But here I am.

They look at me with relief, which throws me for a loop. No, relief would be Dr. Kurosaki, or, heaven forbid, my father... someone who has actually completed their degrees, not just several rotations in various fields of medicine.

"Baby, you've had your Obstetrics rotation, right?" Ichigo's tone is sweet, but insistent and firm.

"I'm on it now."

"For how long?" Byakuya demands.

"...This was my second day."

I can see Ichigo's thought process. "Can you determine if she's fully dilated?"

"I suppose, but we should really call 911-"

"Now, Uryuu," Ichigo insists as he throws me onto the stool and launches a pair of gloves at me. I bend down and give an exam, slow and thorough, wanting to be absolutely sure.

"...You're almost ready to start pushing."

Rukia sits up. "Excuse me? Is a doctor coming?"

"There's no time. I'm your doctor now," I announce, and try not to let the frightened glares unnerve me.

This is frightening for me, too. That's my son. I have no business delivering this baby. Not only am I under-qualified at the present moment, but it's a massive conflict of interest. I should be sitting in the waiting room, holding Ichigo's hand, while a trained Obstetrician delivers the baby.

"This is unacceptable," Byakuya snaps. "She needs to be in the hands of a doctor, not a student and a nurse."

I take a breath.

"By the time we would be able to either get her to a hospital or get someone from the hospital, that child will have hit the open air," I explain, as calmly as I can. "Ichigo. Can you get me some towels, blankets, bulb aspirator… anything you can think of?"

He goes to the door, but I halt him.

"...Baby. Get my textbook out of my bookbag?" I meet his eyes and he nods.

"Fuck this," Rukia cries mournfully.

After several minutes, we have a nice little makeshift setup. Ichigo has hooked her up to an IV and is taking turns talking to Rukia and the child giving her increasing amounts of hell. Her 'mild discomfort' has turned into contempt for the world. Byakuya doesn't appear to be overly sensitive, and is keeping his distance. He's worried about Renji, and why he hasn't shown up yet.

The door slams open and I'm hopeful that it's one of the doctors I've hailed.

….Kaien?

"The hell are you doing here?" Ichigo demands. Byakuya is equally pissed.

"Let him be," Rukia pants. "I invited him."

Kaien stands like a balking horse. Rukia waves him over and Ichigo coldly kicks him a rolling chair. Rukia offers him her hand and he takes it. I take a glance at his hand and my heart drops.

There's no wedding ring.

This revelation makes my stomach drop. He's not wearing his wedding ring. Forgive me, but his relationship with his wife isn't what worries me. I've never even laid eyes on the woman. That's no business of mine- I'm sure Byakuya and Ichigo are kept up on the latest gossip, though Ichigo wouldn't have sought it out.

But is he beginning a relationship with Rukia? Are they going to change their mind? Are Ichigo and I going home to an empty crib? This would have been excellent information, oh, yesterday.

I might need a shot of some of Ichigo's father's sake tonight. Well. Another shot.

After Kaien is settled at his spot next to Rukia, I check her cervix. Again. I should basically set up residence down there, as much as my insecurity is making me check. It's uncomfortable, but I'm able to push away the feeling of crossed boundaries with the weight of the fact that I'm the only 'doctor' available.

"Rukia? It's showtime," I announce to her. "With your next contraction, I want you to start pushing."

The air changes. I taste the tension. I quiet my shaking hands with help from my soulmate, who gives me the most confidence-filled smile I've seen in my life..

I can do this.

I don't know how much time has passed, but I know it's less than it feels like. The screaming and cursing from Rukia, and meek apologies from the men are drowned out by the sound of blood circulating through my body.

Suddenly, without the door opening, a new person enters the room.

After the initial clean-up, I move to, instinctively hand the child to his mother. My anxiety is too high to look at him, but Ichigo can't tear his eyes away. I can't risk attaching myself to a baby who, after such a long hype, would be torn from our arms.

"What are you doing?" she asks tiredly, Kaien wiping her brow. "That's your baby, Doctor."

I blink in realization. Ichigo stands behind me and hands me a blanket. I carefully wrap the screaming child as if he is the most delicate object in the world.

I'm too enthralled by the life in my hands to look up when the door opens quietly. That can't be Renji, and definitely isn't Ichigo's father.

"What do we have here?"

The voice makes my skin crawl and the hair on the back of my neck stand up straight.

My father.

"Ichigo, why did you call him?" I mutter under my breath.

"He has a degree," Ichigo admits.

Ryuuken cuts in between me and Rukia. Calmly, he conducts a thorough exam of the mother before turning his attention to the child in my arms.

"This is your child?" he asks me, taking his stethoscope from his ears. My gaze drops.

"He is."

"What is his name?"

It's Ichigo's turn to answer. "We like Soujiro, I think." He gives me a nod and a wink. "Kurosaki Soujiro."

Ryuuken is quiet for a couple seconds, and it hits me. I haven't told him anything. He didn't even know that my mark is gone. And here he is, holding the child I'm adopting, the one with my partner's last name. My jaw clenches, despite Ichigo's arms around me and the baby in my arms. I'm worried for what he'll say next. Insulting Ichigo, questioning my ability to be a parent..

But no criticism came.

He wants to open his mouth. He really does. But some Decent-Human-Being Failsafe activates in him. He just opens his arms to take his grandson.. and I let him.

"Well, isn't this a sight!"

Hello, Dr. Kurosaki.

"Rukia, what did I tell you about bleeding on my floor?" he chastises lightly, and I'm pretty sure that, given the energy, Rukia would jam her foot so far up his ass that he could taste her toes.

When the situation is under control, Ichigo takes me aside. He presses a kiss to my forehead and holds me close. I'm so exhausted from the constant swirling of adrenaline that I can barely hold myself up. I fall against him, letting out the longest sigh I'm capable of.

The mood is broken by a rush of red hair. Renji is cursing obscenities, running as quickly as he can into the room. Rose is on his heels, power-walking with those incredibly long legs of his, weighed down by Rukia's impressively-sized hospital bag. The two of them are flanked by Izuru, who, head in his hand, is carrying a greasy brown bag. Do I smell french fries?

As soon as the door clicks shut, I hear Rukia screech "DID YOU FUCKING STOP FOR LUNCH?"

"You know I stress-eat! It's- OW! HEY! Byakuya, call her off!"

Renji's lifespan is in her hands, I worry.

I turn my wrist and smile at its blankness. It's probably the adrenaline, but this feels.. right.

We're a family now. All of us. From Ichigo and I, to our fathers, to Rukia, to Kaien, to Soujiro, to Renji and Byakuya, Rose and Izuru, and even Grimmjow and Orihime. Family is the only way to describe what we've become. It's funny how these things work. Not even two years ago, I was sitting on my apartment floor, cold and alone, surrounded by books, trying to grasp the theory of the practice of medicine. But today, over a dozen of us are joined in support of one another, and I helped welcome a new life into the world.

"Let's get back in there," he whispers excitedly. My hand is in his and we re-join the group as a single unit.


End file.
